


Dusk to my dawn

by Rainbowfootsteps



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Abuse, Road Trips, Slow Burn, Violence, incubus hanzo, might not work, some of this gets a bit wild, the lenily is mostly sideplot, theres some angst in there tellin ya now, well i mean im gonna try a slow burn, werewolf mccree - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-09-06 03:25:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 74,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8732929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainbowfootsteps/pseuds/Rainbowfootsteps
Summary: Jesse, freshly dumped and sorely drunk, stumbles onto the snowy Ontario streets in search of solace from his feelings. What he gets is a chance encounter with the cold, reserved Hanzo Shimada. Unfortunately, their encounter plunges Jesse headfirst into the world of the supernatural. Fortunately, Hanzo is sure as hell handsome.





	1. Frost + Bitten

It was a cold day. So bloody cold, in fact, that Jesse made the executive decision to skip his usual saturday jog. This choice wasn’t at all influenced by the dark rings etched under his eyes, or the sore ache in his heart, or his pounding hangover, of course. He glanced out the frosty window of his apartment. Snow was starting to gently drift onto the street, washing the world of colour. His hand, seemingly with a mind of its own, drifted towards the framed photograph lying face down on the cabinet next to him. He nearly touched it, brushed the side of the frame, then jerked his hand back; what did he care? He didn’t need Lucas. His sharp intake of breath at the thought of him whispered otherwise. 

“Fuck you.” He muttered under his breath. He sat down on his sagging couch, hands fumbling for the bourbon on the coffee table. He still hadn’t cleaned up from last night. A half finished coffee cup had been upturned, contents pooling on his dining table. He glanced around searching for a glass. Didn’t find one, figured he didn’t really need one anyway, took a swig from the bottle. The alcohol muted his feelings, replacing the hopeless hollow with stifling loneliness - only just more bearable. He replayed last night in his head, each word, every utterance swimming in his haze. _‘Feel differently now’. ‘Leaving town’._

 _‘Girlfriend’_. That part stung Jesse the most. Had any part of their relationship been real? He took another swig of bourbon only to find the bottle was empty. Hardly any had been left after last night. He threw it aside, almost disappointed that the glass didn’t shatter. He needed the feeling of catharsis that came with destruction. Perhaps what he needed was a jog, after all. He forced himself to stand, suddenly aware of the strong reek of alcohol and cigarettes emanating from him - everybody had methods of coping, his just tended to be strongly scented. Maybe a shower was in order first.

Jesse found no reconciliation in washing off his vices. Instead he got it over with as quickly as possible, changing into fresh clothes. He glanced at himself in the mirror as he dressed. He wasn’t looking too great for 27. His scruffy facial hair made him look older, as did the dark undereye engraved on his face. Tired brown eyes stared into themselves. Chestnut hair was growing a little too long, tickling the back of his neck. Despite Ontario being devoid of any sun, his skin was still tan from years in New Mexico. If not for the unhealthy amount of whiskey in his body, the thought of his home town at the present moment would likely have eked out an emotional convulsion. As it was, he just stared at himself and wondered what the hell he was doing. 

“Lookin’ damn rough around the edges.” He mumbled, scratching his chin. Lucas had loved his drawling southern accent. His fingers curled, his nails bit into his skin. His headache gripped behind his eyes a little tighter. No more thinking. He buttoned up his plaid shirt and averted his eyes from the mirror.

* * *

His jacket did nothing to stop his shivering in the freezing cold. He walked briskly down the street, head hunched down. Thank god there was nobody else dumb enough to be out in this weather; he probably looked like a hobo, wearing his old ripped jeans after having found they were his only clean pair. There was a coffee shop on this street, right? The bourbon was kicking in, making navigation a little difficult. He stopped at a crossing and stared up at the street post. He kicked it, then growled when dislodged snow hit his head and shoulder. There must be somewhere he could get a half-decent meal. He chose to go left and began to trudge up the whitewashed street.

“Get away from me!” Jesse took a moment to realise someone - quite close to him, in fact - was yelling. Torn from his dwelling, Jesse glanced behind him in confusion. A man’s voice yelled again. The cry almost sounded like a warning. Jesse looked to his left and yelped. Down a thin alleyway, he saw a figure pressed against a wall. Between him and safety were three mangy dogs, hackles clearly raised. Jesse started to run towards him. 

“Hey! You mutts, get outta here! Get!” He yelled, waving his hands. That was how you scared dogs, right? You made yourself look bigger. Or maybe that was bears. Either way, the dogs - wolves? - turned their attention to him and snarled. Jesse’s run faltered. The mutts seemed to be sizing him up, considering whether he was worth a fight. They seemed to think so, because before Jesse could react the three were tearing towards him. The biggest of the three was the first to reach him. It was clear to him now that they were wolves. Jesse yelled in pain as yellow fangs sank into his arm, puncturing the fabric he wore like it was gossamer. He pulled his arm away violently. 

“Damn!” He kicked at the wolf. It whimpered and recoiled, ears pressed flat against its skull. The other two wolves watched the fight with grimacing faces. For a moment, Jesse and the largest Wolf stood off. He glared at its golden eyes, daring it to approach again. It seemed that the wolf decided it had more important matters to attend to. After barking at Jesse it turned on its head and ran, the rest of its miniature pack following close behind. 

“Goddamn it - fuck, my arm!” Jesse clutched his right arm tightly. The stranger finally peeled himself off the wall and tentatively approached. He was quite a bit shorter than Jesse, with jet black hair and eyes.

“Were you bitten?” The stranger’s voice was crisp, accented - Chinese? No, Japanese - and more demanding than concerned. Jesse looked up at the other man with watering eyes.

“I dunno partner, you tell me.” He replied grumpily, watching a rivulet of blood begin to soak through the fabric of his jacket. And he’d just had it dry cleaned too. The man muttered something angrily in Japanese, his stern face pulled into a sour frown.

“You must go home.” The man demanded. Jesse looked at him incredulously.

“Excuse me? Bless your heart little fella, but I need to go to hospital!” He snapped back.

“ _Urusai._ ” The stranger snapped back. Although he didn’t understand it, Jesse could guess the meaning. ‘ _Shut your trap’._

“You need to go home.” The man repeated.

“Look buddy, I don’t know who you think you are, but I’ve had a bitch of a week, I’ve just had my arm bitten by some mangy dog - saving you, so mind your goddamn mouth - and now you’re tryin’ a tell me not to get medical attention?” Jesse had put up with this odd stranger enough, and he coldly turned on his heel. Suddenly he felt his headache renew, and winced as a cramp made his bitten arm tense up. He started to try to roll up his sleeve but found that his arm had now split into two swimming copies in his vision. He looked up at the stranger with a confused expression, then fell to his knees as nausea set in.

“I am taking you home.” The man declared, helping him stand. He threw Jesse’s unhurt arm over his shoulder and started to help him walk down the road. Jesse decided that going home was at least an upgrade from the freezing street, and allowed the stranger to half-drag him down the road.

“I’m at… Fifty-seven north street… keys’re in m’ pocket...” He mumbled. His mouth felt full of wool, muffling any words he tried to say. He winced as his arm erupted in pain again unannounced. His body then decided it had endured enough. his eyes rolled back into his skull, his head slumped forward, and he drifted into unconsciousness.

* * *

When Jesse opened his eyes his first thought was, _‘I’m home.’_ The second thought was, _‘Goddamn fuck that fucking hurts shit fucking fuck’_. He let out a groan and tried to roll over. This only intensified the pain, so he rolled back to his original position and forced his burning eyes to open. He was slumped over on his couch, no longer wearing his jacket. He glanced at his arm. A cloth bandage had been tightly wrapped around the wound. Red stains on the carpet led to where he was sitting. 

“Have some tea.” The accented voice brought today’s events rushing back. Sadness, then adrenaline, anger, pain. He looked up to find a mug being handed to him by the man he’d met on the street. The sleep had sobered him up a little and he was able to now properly examine the stranger. The man’s black hair was tied neatly into a small ponytail. A few locks of straight hair hung on the right side of his face. His clothes were casual - black jeans and a dark shirt. Jesse stared at him for a moment, then dazedly accepted the drink.

“You’re in my house.”

“Yes.” The stranger’s affirmation had no effect on Jesse. His mind, still fuzzy with confusion, pain and the lingering hangover, could only manage one thought.

_I need to stop drinking that goddamn whisky._


	2. Turning

The cup of tea was nearly empty by the time Jesse felt well enough to talk to the stranger. He took another sip of the hot liquid, then looked at the man sitting at the other end of the sofa, reading a book. For a complete stranger, he seemed to have made himself at home.

“Ah, look, it was mighty kind of you to take me home, mister - ah -” Jesse trailed off.

“Hanzo.” 

“- Right then, Hanzo. I’m Jesse, since we’re exchanging names. Thank you for taking me home. Prob’ly would’ve more appreciated a drive to the hospital, but I guess this is dandy.” He said. Hanzo looked up at him.

“Why do you talk like that?” He asked shortly. Jesse raised his eyebrows.

“Like what?”

“Like…” Hanzo’s stern brow furrowed more, “like a cowboy from a movie.” He finished. Jesse laughed.

“You ever been to America?” A nod. “The southern part?” A small head shake.

“This is just how we speak down there.” Jesse replied. He put his nearly empty mug down on the coffee table and coughed.

“Hanzo, you’ve been right fine, and I’d love to offer you a meal or some such, but I really do think that gettin’ a limb bit by some wolf makes a man want to at least get a tetanus shot.” He said tentatively. Hanzo immediately shook his head.

“You are not leaving this apartment.” He replied. 

“What are you, a pervert?” Hanzo ignored Jesse’s (somewhat legitimate) question, instead putting down the book he was reading on the coffee table.

“In the next few hours, you are going to be experiencing your ‘turning’. It is not something you want to happen in front of humans.” He replied. Jesse was silent for a moment.

“Should I start at ‘turning’, or at ‘humans’, when I ask what kind of drugs you’re on?” He queried. In his mind, he was evaluating whether he could actually get this man out of his apartment by force. On any other day certainly, but his mauled arm decreased his chances considerably.

“Don’t be crude.” Hanzo replied. Lordy, what mess had Jesse found himself in? Hanzo must have noticed the brew of emotions fighting for space on Jesse’s face, and sighed.

“Just - go look in your bathroom mirror.” He said. Jesse looked at him suspiciously. 

“If I’m going anywhere, you’re coming with me, short stuff.” He replied. Hanzo sighed again - an almost regal huff - then complied, standing up as Jesse did. Jesse shuffled to the bathroom, clutching his arm as he did so, with Hanzo trailing behind. With a final suspicious glare Jesse walked into the small white room and inspected himself in the mirror. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong with him, save for the godawful state of his hair. Wait, when had his sideburns grown so long? He looked damn near Wolverine! He hesitantly touched them, then recoiled in shock as he saw his hand. Patches of thick fur had sprouted on the tops of his fingers and hand. He stared in wonder at his nails - they slowly became longer and sharper as he watched in awe.

“The hell did you put in that tea?” He yelled in horror.

“You are turning. This is the first phase of lycanthropism.” Hanzo massaged his temples in exasperation at the confused look Jesse gave him.

“You’re turning into a werewolf, you idiotic American.” He snapped.

“Alright, that’s it, get out of my goddamn apartment!” Jesse snarled. The noise he made was guttural, almost feral.

“Listen to me, you fool! If you leave your house as you are, you will get killed. You’re a beast. Humans don’t welcome the supernatural.” Hanzo growled back.

“Oh, and you ain’t human either, is that right?” Jesse challenged. 

“No, I’m not.” Hanzo replied with a scowl. Jesse felt a sudden rush of aggression shock through his body. Hanzo took a step back, clearly noticing the change. Jesse lunged at him. The bathroom door was slammed shut. 

Jesse tried to yell but to his anger, he couldn’t conjure any noise but a growl. He tried to turn the door handle. His clawlike fingernails clacked off it uselessly, preventing him from holding it.

“Jesse, you need to calm down or you will hurt yourself.” Hanzo’s voice floated under the door, insistent, demanding. To hell with being calm! Jesse picked up his leg to kick the door. Vertigo pulled him back down to the tiled floor. His claws scratched lines in the wall as he slumped against it. 

“I’m sorry. I’m going to leave you in there until you have calmed.” Hanzo said from the other side. Jesse snarled in reply.

* * *

It felt like hours. Jesse couldn’t stand, could barely crawl. All rational thought was stolen from him and replaced by a red haze of anger which made him snap and growl whenever he heard Hanzo’s footsteps. His canines had lengthened painfully, puncturing his gums with every bite down. He’d lain there, unfocused and angry, blood frothing in his mouth, until suddenly it was over. The red mist disappeared from his mind. His body had mostly returned to normal too, save for the blood still dribbling down his chin. He became aware of the sore dryness of his throat, making every blood-tinged swallow an excruciating experience. He dragged himself to the front of the bathroom and hit the door desperately.

“Let me out!” He rasped. The door opened almost instantaneously and Hanzo appeared, a glass of water already in his hand. He kneeled next to Jesse and gently placed the cup in front of him.

“Transformation always causes dehydration. The next time it will not be as intense.” He said as Jesse greedily drank the glass dry. 

“I… I believe you now.” Jesse muttered. Hanzo nodded.

“I will tell you more tomorrow. You are far too drained now to learn about your new self.” Hanzo’s firm voice was nearly a comfort. 

“You’re a kind fella.” Jesse mumbled as he was helped to his feet. 

“Supernatural beings must stick together, lest we all be eradicated.” Hanzo replied solemnly. Jesse decided not to care about that sentence until he’d at least slept. By the time the two reached Jesse’s bedroom, he was ready to pass out. He fell asleep seconds after he collapsed onto the soft bed.

* * *

“Lucas, I had the worst dream. There was this weird asian guy yelling at me, and I was a werewolf. Imagine that!” Jesse chuckled, extending his arm to embrace the other man. The absence of a body lying next to him made Jesse’s eyes snap open. No, no, that nightmare couldn’t be real. He was right; he could hear the sounds of Lucas in the kitchen. He stood up and walked out of his dim bedroom.

“Morning, darlin’!” He crooned, then froze. Staring at him was Hanzo - dressed in hello kitty pyjama pants, making pancakes. The horror of realisation made his stomach drop. His eyes slowly trailed to his arm. His breath hitched in his throat at the sight of dried rivulets of blood snaking down his arm, all leading back to a black clotted puncture wound. He opened his mouth but he could only manage a garbled utterance.

“Do not call me ‘darling’.” Hanzo glared at him for a moment, then returned to flipping pancakes. 

“You’re real.” Jesse pointed a finger at Hanzo, then at the pancakes, then back at Hanzo.

“You’re real, and in my house making pancakes.” He revised his earlier statement, and Hanzo raised an eyebrow.

“How much alcohol did you consume yesterday?” He asked. Jesse didn’t reply, instead pulling out a chair from his dining table and slumping down in it.

“So, if you’re real… Well that’s fine as frog hair, ain’t it.” Jesse held his head in his hands, closing his sore eyes. His mind was racing. What did this mean? Was he just going to turn into a wolf every month? Was he going to hurt anyone? Was he _dangerous_?

“You have a lot of questions.” Hanzo slid a plate across the table, laden with warm pancakes.

“No shit, Sherlock.” Jesse muttered, begrudgingly accepting the meal. The pancakes were a tiny bit overcooked, and slathered in maple syrup. 

“I can tell you everything. But first, please change your shirt. You smell terrible.”


	3. In an angel's hands

Jesse stared at himself in the mirror, gently touching his scruffy face. He winced at the lines of blood crusting on his chin, the mysterious new cut on his cheek. He glanced behind him and bit his lip, staring at the scratch marks on the wall. He picked up the hand towel and started to scrub at his face. He couldn’t wash off the memories, but he could damn well try. After his face was mostly clean, he moved onto his damaged right arm. He skirted around the stained bandage carefully. He finished trying to wash off the blood, sighed, and shrugged on a fresh shirt. Maybe now he’d get some answers.

Jesse wandered into the lounge sat on the couch, cigarette hanging from his mouth, watching as Hanzo meticulously closed his apartment’s windows. His body still ached, his mouth still tasted of metal, and his arm was hugged close to his chest, but at least he wasn’t drunk anymore.

“You cold? There’s a heater ‘round here somewhere.” He offered. Hanzo went to the front door and warily poked his head out for a moment. Seemingly satisfied, he closed and locked the door, then returned to where Jesse was lounging.

“You can never be too certain that you are alone.” Hanzo muttered. His pyjamas had been shunned, replaced with the same dark outfit as yesterday. 

“You know, I think I liked you in the pink trousers more.” Jesse said with a grin. The smile slowly eroded from his face to be replaced by a serious line. Enough of faux hospitality.

“Alright, you said you had answers. What I wanna know first is whether this is permanent.” He asked. 

“Yes.” Hanzo replied after a slight pause. Jesse inhaled deeply.

“An’ if I recall correctly, this turnin’ thing happens every full moon.” 

“Yes.”

“Am I going to be, you know, a public safety hazard?” Jesse asked tentatively. Hanzo lowered his gaze.

“As far as I have been told, werewolves find it extremely difficult to control themselves in wolf form. As a werewolf, you will become aggressive and inhumanly strong. In short…. Yes, you will be dangerous and even liable to kill.” The confirmation made a lump form in Jesse’s throat. 

“Is there anything I can do about it?” He could hear the tinge of desperation in his voice. Hanzo looked nearly sympathetic.

“There is nothing to be done except go far away from civilisation once every month.” He replied shortly.

“‘Go away’? What, into a forest? You aren’t tellin’ me that some werewolf out there ain’t figured out a goddamn cure yet? Some tiny yellow pill you can take every full moon? I don’t wanna be running around out there killing every stray camper I meet!” He cried. 

“No! There is no cure!” Hanzo snapped. 

“How in the hell do you know? _You_ ain’t even a werewolf, are ya?” Jesse challenged back. Hanzo bristled, stern face pinching more.

“What I am is off no concern to you.” 

“I think it damn well is if you want me to trust you in any of this! I don’t even know why yer’ doing all this for me, and then acting like yer’ some mystery man!” Jesse’s voice was climbing in volume despite his best efforts to be civil.

“It doesn’t matter!”

“If it didn’t matter, you would tell me!”

“I barely know you, and I owe you nothing. So tell me, Jesse,” Hanzo said coldly, “why I should tell you.” 

Jesse grit his teeth. “Because for some goddamn reason you’re obsessed with helpin’ me, and if you don’t tell me, I’ll tell you to get the hell out of my apartment.” He growled. Hanzo’s eyes widened, glared, then closed.

“You are foolish to resist my assistance in your situation, but if it will placate you… I’m an incubus.” He muttered. Jesse exhaled a puff of smoke, letting the nicotine cool his hot blood.

“Ain’t that those pretty gals that seduce men?” He drawled. Hanzo’s glare was back in full force, as well as a slight rosy tinge to his cheeks.

“No, those are succubus. An incubus is a man.” He corrected coldly. Jesse took the cigarette out of his mouth and laughed - it came out raspy, hurting his throat.

“That’s what you’re so secretive about? Your love life is as good as set! You sure as hell got a sweet slice of life pie, didn’t ya.” He shook his head with a smile still on his face.

“It is not as good as it seems.” Hanzo muttered in reply. Jesse decided he’d done enough prying, and instead slipped the cigarette back into his teeth. Hanzo wrinkled his nose in disgust but said nothing, instead glancing out the window.

“Are there… Lots of us?” Jesse asked after a pause. “I mean, not just werewolves. Are there vampires out there, n’ ghosts?”

“Yes, there are all manner of supernatural beings in the world. They just hide from human eyes out of fear.” Hanzo replied. 

“How n’ the hell does a vampire hide?” Jesse chuckled. 

“People are unobservant. They take things, people, events at face value and think nothing more of them. How many times have you seen someone clad fully in black outside on a sunny day?” Hanzo asked.

“Ain’t that just a fashion nowadays? You know, goth n’ the like.” Jesse reasoned.

“Exactly. ‘Goth’ clothing was a creation of vampires to allow them to hide in plain sight.” Hanzo replied. Jesse contemplated this for a moment, stroking his scruffy chin.

“Well I’ll be damned.” He finally said, raising his eyebrows. “You know, my uncle always swore that he saw a chupacabra on the ranch once. Guess I should’ve believed him.” He chuckled - again, the throaty laugh grated on his throat, making him wince.

“Look, I realise you’re looking out for me an’ all, but I really need to get this checked.” Jesse gestured to his arm. He’d donned a t shirt despite the chill; he didn’t want any more clothing getting blood stains or his laundromat bill would be through the roof. The bandage covering his arm was already starting to look ragged. 

“Alright. But you are not going to hospital.” Hanzo replied stubbornly. “I will take you to a safe place. I have an acquaintance who can take care of you.”

* * *

The street was nearly as cold as yesterday, but Jesse found some warmth in the cigarette he gritted between his teeth. The habit had been picked up years ago in New Mexico. While he’d broken enough out of the habit to barely have one a week, he decided that he was justified in breaking tradition given the situation. God, what he’d do for a good cigarillo like the ones back home. They were earth and fire, what grounded him in times he’d much rather forget.

“We’re nearly there.” Hanzo’s voice shocked him back to reality. He glanced around to find himself on an unknown street. The monochrome scenery was broken in patches by skeletal trees, reaching to the sky with wraithlike claws. He now noticed how Hanzo walked - briskly, with his head hunched down as if he were afraid of being recognised. Jesse now noticed a small golden ribbon at the base of Hanzo’s ponytail, flapping gently in the wind.

“Where exactly are we going, anyways?” He asked, checking over his shoulder. White obscurity looked back at him.

“Since we cannot turn to humans for help, there are members of the supernatural community that set up shop, so to speak.” Hanzo replied. He sped up a considerable amount and Jesse nearly had to jog to keep up with him. 

“There are bars, cafes, hospitals, even hotels that cater specifically for us. You just have to know where to find them.” He continued rather cryptically. 

“Alright, but you still haven’t told me where we’re going.” Jesse said, raising his eyebrows. Hanzo gave out a regal huff.

“To the home of Doctor Angela Ziegler.”

* * *

Jesse wasn’t quite sure what he’d expected. Half of him had hoped for a legitimate pharmacy, with a welcoming green cross glowing above the entrance. The other half of him had expected a dark, rundown basement at the end of a rat-infested alleyway. No part of him had expected what stood in front of him.

“This is it?” He stared up at the inconspicuous apartment building. It was a calming beige, with white trimming every edge. They stood right outside it, barely a metre away from the door. Hanzo’s eyebrow raised a fraction, as if to say, ‘what did you expect?’

Hanzo approached the building's glass door, and turned his attention to the small plate of buttons next to it. He pressed down on the button labelled ‘76’.

“Hello?” A woman’s voice crackled through a speaker.

“It’s Hanzo. I have a patient that requires your attention.” There was no response to Hanzo’s sentence. Instead, the glass doors opened with a hiss.

“After you.” Jesse said, tipping an imaginary hat. He could have sworn he saw Hanzo roll his eyes before he walked into the building.

One uncomfortably silent lift ride later, and the two were standing outside a white wooden door. There was a small bin attached to the wall, which Jesse slipped his cigarette into. Hanzo rapped on it - three sharp knocks that echoed slightly in the empty hall. It quickly opened to reveal a strikingly beautiful woman with golden hair.

“Welcome, come in.” Her voice had a distinctly European accent, but Jesse couldn’t quite place it. German? He trotted into the room after Hanzo, admiring the decorations. The room was startlingly white, from the wool carpet to the unblemished walls.

“It’s good to see you again, Hanzo.” She said with a smile. She wore muted pastel clothing, circumventing another of Jesse's expectations. Hanzo’s face twitched into the trace of a smile, then returned to its usual line.

“Uh, I’m Jesse. Jesse McCree.” Jesse stuck his hand out for Angela to shake, and smiled when she reciprocated the gesture. He then proceeded to jerk his hand back and gape at her.

“You - you -” He took a moment to compose himself.

“You have wings.” He said uncertainly. Sure enough, extruding from Angela’s back were two massive white wings, like… an angel’s. Angela sent a panicked glance at Hanzo.

“Don’t worry, he’s one of us. He only turned yesterday.” He replied. Angela nodded with a small sigh of relief, then gently touched the bandage on Jesse’s arm.

“Yes, I do have wings. I’m an angel. But what’s important now is that we take care of you. Please sit down, Jesse. I’m going to take off the bandage first, then we’ll see what needs to be done.” Angela’s professional voice was a comfort to Jesse and he obediently plopped himself down on the nearest wooden chair. 

“Hanzo, could you get some things from the bathroom? There’s a first aid kit under the sink, and there should be antiseptic and gauze swabs in the cupboard.” Angela asked, gently starting to unravel the bandages on Jesse’s arm. Hanzo nodded and marched out of the room.

Angela and Jesse sat in silence for a moment, the winged doctor carefully revealing his wound. When she had completely removed the bandage she glanced up at him.

“Werewolf?” She queried.

“Yeah. I don’t know what in tarnation I’ve got myself into.” Jesse admitted with a sigh. Angela smiled sympathetically.

“It’s scary and confusing to be plunged into a world you didn’t even know existed. When I got my wings, I was still in medical school. It was in a dream - a beautiful creature approached me, said something incomprehensible - and when I woke up these had grown.” She gently batted her wings, the feathers brushing against the floor.

“I had to hide them, so I made a harness that trapped them against my body. It worked; nobody ever noticed. But after so many years of constantly being contorted and hidden, when I finally tried to use them, they couldn’t fly.” Regret reflected in the doctor’s blue gaze.

“But I met other people like me, who helped me, taught me things about myself I could never have known. Now I can help other people to spread their wings - even if that flight’s more metaphorical.” She laughed gently, and Jesse chuckled along with her. 

“No matter what happens, there is hope. There are people out there who want to help and protect you.” She continued.

“Like Hanzo?” Jesse asked. Angela smiled slightly, reservedly.

“You’re not the first person he’s brought in to me for help. He has… his own reasons to want to help.” She murmured. They both heard footsteps approaching and Jesse glanced up to see Hanzo, his arms laden with bottles and containers.

“Thank you, Hanzo. Now, on a scale of 1 to 10, how is your pain?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :Oc A chapter double the size? What is this madness!?
> 
> On a more serious note - I'm very proud of the 1,000 word standard I set for myself for 'the man from A.L.F.R.E.D', so I've decided I'll try and make the chapters of this fic from now on at least 2,000 words long. Here's hoping that goes well ;OuO


	4. Gibraltar

“Thank you, Angela. You’ve been too kind.” Jesse smiled warmly as the petite woman placed a small bag into his hands. He and Hanzo stood outside the door of her apartment, patched up and full of coffee and ginger slice. Jesse could still smell the warm cinnamon scent of Angela’s house lingering in the air.

“Inside this is fresh bandages, some antiseptic cream, and my number in case you notice any worrying changes. Keep the bandages dry and change them tomorrow morning.” Even when bidding the two men farewell, Angela still pressed medical advice onto Jesse.

“I really should pay you for this. Ain’t right to be givin’ this all out for free.” Jesse dug his hand into his jeans pocket and bit his lip when all he found was a crumpled twenty.

“No, honestly, I don’t need-” Jesse politely ignored Angela’s protests and pressed the money into her hand.

“I’ll make up the rest by taking you out to coffee some time.” He said with a smile, amused at Angela’s little sigh as she resignedly accepted the bill. He didn’t miss the fleck of gratitude in her eyes as she slipped it into her trouser pocket.

“That would be very nice, Jesse. The Cafe Gibraltar is a lovely spot that’s - well - you know, safe. Hanzo works there, don’t you?” Angela glanced at Hanzo, who nodded slightly.

“Yes. Thank you for the assistance, Doctor Ziegler.” Hanzo said in his seemingly eternal stiff manner. Jesse wondered if he was capable of any emotion other than cold severity. The doctor gave one more smile and gently closed the door of her apartment, leaving Hanzo and Jesse alone in the hallway. Jesse dug his hands into his pockets and the two started to walk down the corridor.

“Cafe Gibraltar, huh? Kinda thought you were some sorta all-hours Robin Hood do-gooder, but looks like even he has a day job.” Jesse commented with a grin.

“It is work.” Hanzo replied, nonplussed. A stray thought wandered across Jesse’s mind of Hanzo dressed up like Robin Hood. He suppressed a chuckle at the thought of him firing arrows at passersby.

“I assume it’s another one of these werewolf-friendly places?”

“Yes, it is run with the expressed purpose of helping and supporting members of the supernatural community.”

“Like you?” Jesse glanced at Hanzo. Hanzo looked away. They had reached the building’s exit, and Jesse pushed the glass door open. As soon as they were outside they were assaulted by a chilling wind that made Jesse hug his jacket tightly.

“What is your job?” Hanzo asked suddenly. Jesse shrugged slightly.

“Odd jobs, This n’ that. Right now I’m workin’ night shifts at a gas station. Turns out there aren’t many job openings for cowboys in Canada.” He laughed slightly bitterly. Then a sudden realisation hit him like a brick. 

“Oh, fuck.” He muttered, rubbing his scraggly chin. 

“Is it your arm?” Hanzo asked sharply, halting his power walk to examine Jesse’s arm.

“No, no. I just - damn.” Jesse cursed again. “My bo- my, ah, fiance broke up with me the night before I ran into you. We split all the bills but now, fuck...” He broke off, the reality of his situation slowly sinking his gut further towards the floor with every passing second.

“Fuck, I need to go home and talk to my landlord, shit.” Jesse fumbled in his back pocket for his phone, swearing again when he found it wasn’t there. How much did he make each week? “I’m such a freeloadin’ asshole, goddamn.”

“Look, thank you for everything but I - I have to go.” Jesse dragged a hand through his hair. He could probably manage to scrape by on his bills, but how was he going to afford food? The freezing wind picked up, making his teeth chatter. He gripped his jacket tighter and marched away from Hanzo, whose eyebrows had creased in concern. Jesse left him standing there.

* * *

His apartment was silent. Usually the radio was on, singing grainy old tunes to the white apartment walls. Now the air was empty. He threw his jacket on the couch, stormed into his small kitchen, and wrenched open the fridge. Enough food for a week, at least. What day was it - sunday? He got paid on fridays, so he’d be alright for a little while. A single bottle of beer glistened in its spot nestled against a jar of gherkins. After a moment’s hesitation, Jesse grabbed it and popped the black lid off. The bite of the mahogany liquid was familiar and comforting, and gave him the strength to sit down on the sofa and open up his phone’s bank app. 

“Damn.” Jesse slowly took another long drink of beer as he stared at the dismally small amount of money in his account. He turned off his phone and tossed it down on his lap with a sigh. Why did everything bad have to happen at once? He glared blackly at his arm, then picked up his phone and glanced at it’s painted back. The dark red symbol of an eye, meticulously drawn with a fine hand, made him smile slightly.

“I’m in the thick of it again, Amari.” He mumbled, rubbing the image with his thumb. “Sometimes I feel like trouble comes lookin’ for me.” He looked at the eye. The eye stared back. Somewhere, he could faintly hear her voice, whispering quiet wisdom from a conversation long past.

 _‘Remember, Jesse. You only need two things in life: good aim and a good heart. You have one of those, at least.’_ He could feel the hot wind on his neck again, the rustle of leather on leather.

_‘You’re foolish. You accept fear and let it control you.’_ Memories wandered to goldenrod sunsets spent hiding from townsfolk, stolen guns jammed into his belt. Jesse finished his beer, relishing the alcohol’s burn. 

“I think I got a friend, Amari. Good samaritan’s been helpin’ me out.” The beer soothed his frayed nerves and dulled his taut senses, making the dread dissipate. He could get through this. Maybe he should find that cafe Gibraltar and maybe, just maybe, there would be a werewolf there that could help him out. 

_Werewolf._ The word was starting to hold meaning, its reality settling heavily in Jesse’s mind. It battled against money for dominance of his fears, somehow losing the struggle. He sighed and hauled himself off the sofa. There was no point bumming around like a kicked dog, he had work to do.

* * *

_“I’ve got spurs, that jingle jangle jingle,_  
As I go riding merrily along  
And they sing, ‘Oh, ain't you glad you're single’  
And that song ain't so very far from wrong” 

Jesse hummed along to the tune, his old radio crackling gently. The sun had finally peeked out from the rolling grey clouds and was bathing his apartment in cool yellow light. A coffee sat next to him, slowly going cold on his kitchen bench. In front of him was his beaten up laptop. It whirred pitifully as he traversed the internet. Yesterday had been full of number crunching and internet banking, trying to work out how far his cash would spread. If he was right, he had about a month of careful budgeting before he was completely broke. The calming effect of organisation had relaxed Jesse enough to let him sleep for 11 hours straight, and now at noon he dug into a breakfast of soggy cereal. The laptop let out a particularly loud whine as Jesse downloaded a pdf.

 _‘Werewolf Habits and Avoidance Strategies.’_ The title declared. Most of the articles he’d found were trashy clickbait stories about werewolf encounters and the end of the world, but he was determined to see if he could find legitimate advice.

 _‘Werewolves can be defeated by a silver bullet to the heart. If necessary, normal bullets will work to slow them. Any object of silver can be used to ward off werewolves, but only physical contact will harm them.’_ Jesse scratched his nose meditatively. Did that mean he was allergic to silver now? He glanced around his kitchen but only found steel and wood. His roaming eyes fell on the clock, which proclaimed the time to be ‘2:40’. His work started at six… 

After a moment’s contemplation, he pulled himself to his feet. Now was as good a time as any to check out that Gibraltar place Hanzo worked at. Not that he could afford coffee on his shoestring budget, but hell, maybe he could absorb the caffeinated atmosphere.

It was finally not so hellishly frozen for Jesse to forego a jacket, which he appreciated greatly. He hadn’t noticed until after the moment, but in his rush to return home the previous day, he’d left Hanzo wearing one of his jackets - his favourite one, too. Now he wore only a red plaid shirt (rolled to the elbow, exposing his bandages) and jeans. He trundled along the street, looking at the small shops fighting for space.

“Oasis road.” Jesse mumbled to himself. A quick google search had told him the rough location of the shop, now all he had to do was aimlessly wander until he fell upon the right street. Sure enough, after a few blocks of walking he looked up to see a green sign proclaiming ‘Oasis Rd’. He perused the street: long, flat, composed mostly of small stores. A sprawling Norway Maple tree hung over the start of the street, waving gently over Jesse’s head. He sucked in a cool breath of air, hoisted up his belt, and marched onto the street.

The Cafe Gibraltar was a calming pastel blue, and wedged between an antiques store and a psychic medium shop. Its name was painted above the door in meticulous white paint. Jesse hesitated a moment, then pushed open the wooden blue door. The smell of coffee instantly hit him, making his stomach grumble in anticipation. The pleasant hum of conversation filled the air, floating from the dozen-odd customers in the store. Jesse was hit again by the dissonance between his expectations and reality - where were the cobwebs and skeletons that his mind had conjured? He trotted to the back of the store, where a peppy brunette stood grinning at him behind the counter.

“Hello love! What can I get for ya?” The woman’s british voice was so unbelievably happy that it made Jesse want to feel happy and also slightly disoriented at the same time. She was also unbelievably short, almost to the point that you would mistake her for a teenager.

“Um, is Hanzo here?” He asked, glancing around at the other customers. How many of them were vampires, or werewolves, or -

“Hanzo? You a friend of his? He’s in the back, I’ll be two seconds!” The whirlwind of a girl was gone in an instant. Jesse used the moment alone to soak in more of his surroundings. The counter was dominated by a monstrously large coffee maker which was making questionable grumbling noises. Next to it was a small cash register. There was a small red and white ‘my name is ‘ sticker on it, with ‘BASTION’ scribbled on with permanent marker. For just a moment, Jesse could have sworn the register shifted. Then the lady was back, a grin on her face.

“You’re in luck! Hanzo’s in the back. Said there was a guy with a hurt arm in the store and he seemed to recognise you, so I figure I can trust ya. Name’s Lena, by the way.” She stuck her hand out to Jesse, who shook it warily. Her grip was worryingly tight.

“So what are ya, love? Changeling, Mothman?” Her voice had become hushed, but it still carried her infectious energy. She gestured for Jesse to follow her and he obliged, walking after her as she led him down a staircase labelled ‘EMPLOYEES ONLY’.

“Werewolf.” Jesse replied, scratching his neck uncomfortably.

“Ooh, tough luck. We keep the back area silver-free, don’t worry.”

“Um, thanks. What are you?” Jesse questioned. They were in a dimly lit hallway, with several doors leading off in every direction.

“Well, it’s a little complicated, but basically Chronos had a baby with my great-great-great-great grandmother, so I’m like, a lame version of a demigod. I can control time and stuff, but not reeeally, if you know what I mean. I’d rather be a nymph, to be honest.” Lena said with a grin. Jesse whistled.

“Controlling time’s nothing to sneeze at, missy.” He replied. Lena suddenly stopped in front of one of the doorways, and winked.

“I’ve got to get back to the customers, but just give me a shout when you’re leaving, okay? We try to keep track of who comes and goes.” She said with a smile. Then, with a small salute she was gone again. Jesse blinked, surprised by her sudden lack of being in front of him. Damn, with each passing day life got weirder. He turned to the door, and gently pushed it open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Jesse is listening to is '(I got Spurs that) Jingle Jangle Jingle' written by Joseph J. Lilley and Frank Loesser, but the famous version is sung by Kay Kyser. It's a great song that I highly recommend!


	5. The silver lining

Jesse made a few observations when he opened the heavy wooden door. The first, and least pressing thought, was that the box-filled room smelled of musty books. The second more alarming observation, was that a gigantic man with large breasts was staring at him. No, hold on, the man was wearing an apron - which had worryingly large cleavage printed on it. It was also covered in flour smeared across the front.

“Uh, howdy.” Jesse hesitantly walked into the dim room and waved at the gigantic hulk of a man, who had only just noticed him.

“Hello!” The giant roared. He had a grin on his face and seemed unfazed at Jesse’s arrival.

“You must be Hanzo’s friend!” The man was old, at least in his sixties, but towered over Jesse and had muscles to match. Jesse nodded, still slightly unbalanced.

“Is he around?” He asked, glancing at the dark corners of the room. It was a sprawling storage area lit by dim yellow lamps, without any windows and only one other door Jesse could see. The giant stranger looked around too, then took a great intake of breath.

“Hanzo! Where are you? You have a guest!” Jesse couldn’t help but wince at the sheer volume of the man’s yell. Did this guy have any concept of a normal speaking voice?

“I’m Reinhardt. Have I met you before?” Reinhardt crushed Jesse’s hand in a painful handshake.

“Can’t say we have.” Jesse replied quietly. Although Reinhardt was a lot to take in at once, he couldn’t help but like the friendly giant. He was about to question the apron when the other door in the room opened and Hanzo walked in.

“Just the guy I wanted to see.” Jesse said with a grin. Hanzo replied by scrutinising his arm.

“Is there an issue? Is it inflamed?” He questioned sharply.

“No, no. Ain’t nothin’ like that. Is it a crime to want to say hello?” Jesse replied. Hanzo sniffed. Behind the two men, Reinhardt was rifling furiously through a cardboard box, and now turned to face them.

“Hanzo, where is the almond danish recipe?” Reinhardt yelled, making Jesse’s ears ring.

“Third box to your left, filed under ‘D’.” Hanzo replied coolly. Reinhardt gave a grinning thumbs up and immediately tore into the new box. Hanzo’s dark brown eyes rolled - again, quite regally - and he motioned for Jesse to follow him out of the room. Jesse eagerly followed, trailing Hanzo out of the room and further down the dim hallway.

“Nice place.” Jesse commented, jamming his hands into his pockets. “Does he, uh, always wear that?”

“Yes. You get used to it after a while.” Hanzo replied, with a slight humoured tilt to his voice. Jesse glanced around to find that they were now in a lounge-like room. A water cooler in the corner and a sign reminding staff to check in displayed its purpose as a staff room of some sort. How big was this shop? Scruffy couches sagged underneath pastel yellow walls, all covered by a blanket of the scent of warm baking. It reminded him of weekends full of baking with Lucas, haphazardly placing dough onto trays. His smile - Jesse’s shoulder twitched involuntarily as he cast the thought from his mind.

“So, um, my arm’s gettin’ better.” Jesse said. He slumped down onto a moss green sofa and sank into it comfortably. Hanzo perched on the couch opposite, his taut limbs held in close. They were separated by a coffee table that looked ready to buckle in the middle.

“This looks like a nice place to work. What do you do around here?” Jesse asked, glancing around the room. 

“I do the filing and paperwork.” Hanzo replied briskly. Jesse shifted uncomfortably; the other man’s cold brown eyes could see right through his small talk.

“Truth this, I came to ask you some more about this whole werewolf thing. It ain’t - it ain’t easy to come to terms with. An’ - I know you ain’t got the whole story but… damn, it’s better than nothing.” Jesse fumbled for words. 

“I do not have much advice left to give you.” Hanzo replied. His mouth formed a stubborn line.

“Well - I did some research this mornin’, and those mystic websites say that werewolves are allergic to silver. That zippy lady up the front of the store mentioned something about silver, too. So I've been learning some stuff myself. Barely caught what she said, though. Damn, if she doesn’t talk fast...” Jesse grumbled not unkindly.

“I have often told Lena to speak with more clarity.” Hanzo agreed.

“She got me down here in two shakes of a sheep’s tail! Looks like this society of oddballs and beasts is more diverse than I thought.” Jesse said with a chuckle. “How did she wind up here, anyway? She sounded English. An’ that Reinhardt fella sounded European too.”

“Canada is much kinder to supernatural beings than other countries. Many people come here searching for freedom and safety.” Hanzo replied.

“Is that the reason you’re here?” Jesse asked. Hanzo noticeably stiffened. Before he could reply, there was a knock on the door and Lena poked her bright-eyed head into the room. Speak of the devil, Jesse’s mind murmured.

“Sorry to interrupt, loves, but there was just an awfully skeevy looking chap outside asking about you, Hanzo. Looks like you’re famous all of a sudden!” Lena chirped. Hanzo frowned.

“What did he look like?” He asked. 

“Tall, I s’pose. Looked like he’d just been in a scrap, and he was pretty hairy.” The sound of this made Hanzo’s eyes widen. He stood up and marched out of the room.

“Hey, hold on now, is everything alright?” Jesse forced himself up out of the plush sofa and followed after Hanzo, with Lena trailing behind inquisitively.

“Did he ask by my name?” Hanzo barked at Lena, who looked taken back.

“Um, no, but whoever he was looking for sounded awful like you. I said I’d go check in the back.” Lena replied quickly. A glower quickly formed on Hanzo’s face, like a black thundercloud rolling across the sky.

“Is he still here?”

“I don’t know. He looked a bit skittish-” Lena trailed off as Hanzo thundered ahead of her and Jesse. He glanced at her. She shrugged. Jesse broke into a jog trying to keep up with the shorter man’s alarmingly fast gait. Hanzo stormed up the stairs and into the cafe’s front area. Jesse watched in bewilderment as Hanzo’s flighty gaze searched the room, roaming skittishly from customer to customer.

 _“Kuso!”_ He spat, his scowl deepening. The man was nowhere to be seen - but Jesse noticed that a few women in the cafe were staring at Hanzo, with… interesting looks on their faces. Blushes crept onto their faces, and hands gently rose to twirl locks of their hair. Noticing this, Hanzo bristled even more. He pushed past Jesse and stormed back down the staircase. 

Ah. So that was the curse of being an incubus.

* * *

“That’s terrible, love! It’s a good thing Hanzo took you to see Angela.” Lena’s sympathetic voice was punctuated by the occasional sip of coffee, and frequent munches on biscuits. The plate in front of them, once laden with decadent baking, had been ravenously transformed into a small speckle of crumbs. Jesse nodded in reply to her statement, taking a drink of his cup of coffee.

“I’m really grateful for that - and for this. It’s comforting to know that there are places like this that’ll help a man in need.” He said with a smile. Despite his smile and kind words, a blanket of gloom stifled the room - mainly because of Hanzo. The scowling man had bunched himself up into the corner of the sofa Lena was on, somehow taking up even less space than the petite woman. He hadn’t said anything when Lena had suggested ‘a cuppa to get to know you, Jesse’ and had been silent for the whole session.

“You don’t know the half of it, love! The cafe Gibraltar’s a positive dream to be at - and to work at, too! Reinhardt’s such a softie that he lets me take breaks whenever, just like now!” Lena said with a cunning grin. “I just hope he doesn’t still have that apron on, though. He’ll scare all the customers off!”

Despite Lena’s bubbly voice, Jesse could tell she was as curious as he was. As the conversation petered out, the two glanced at Hanzo. His scowl had softened to a concerned frown. 

“The man who came looking for me.” Hanzo finally broke the silence. Lena and Jesse leaned towards him ever so slightly.

“I think he is one of the werewolves that were attacking me last saturday.” He muttered. Lena let out a gasp, but Jesse could see the excited sparkle in her eyes.

“You’re in the thick of it again, aren’t you? Who did you woo this time?” She asked with raised eyebrows. Hanzo scowled defensively.

“I didn’t mean to. She was just a passersby, but she wouldn’t leave me alone. How was I to know she was the fiance of a pack leader?” _Pack?_

“So now they’re out for your blood?”

“It seems so.” Hanzo muttered unhappily. Lena considered this for a moment.

“I’ll tell Winston about this, he’ll know what to do. And you’d better stay here overnight.” She replied. Hanzo nodded. Jesse was about to question what Hanzo meant by ‘pack’ when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He glanced at it and yelped.

“Shit, I have work!” He stood up and brushed a cascade of crumbs off his top.

“Thank you for the hospitality, miss Lena.” He shook her tiny hand, amazed at her forceful grip.

“You’re welcome back anytime! A friend of Hanzo is my friend too. And, by the way, we’re hiring.” She said with a wink. Jesse couldn’t help the grateful smile that grew on his face.

“Thank you kindly. I’ll see y’all around.” He tipped an imaginary hat at Hanzo, and grinned at his regal huff. Maybe this whole shebang had a silver lining after all.

* * *

Stacking boxes in bright neon light is liable to make one’s mind go numb. Understandably, Jesse’s thoughts wandered over the previous events of the day as he stacked frozen vegetables for hours.

 _“... Fiance of a pack leader.”_ So werewolves had packs? Was he supposed to have a pack? The concept seemed slightly barbaric. Plus, he didn’t know any other werewolves - except for the one looking for Hanzo today. His mind then wandered to what Lena had said. Hiring, huh. He’d never worked at a cafe, but the idea did sound inviting.

“Hey, Jesse, give me a hand with my earring.” Jesse glanced up to see his workmate Mickey at the room’s entrance. An emo teenager with B.O problems, it was a miracle that they’d become uneasy work friends. Nonetheless, Jesse abandoned his stacking task and trundled over to him.

“Alright, Mickey Mouse. What’s the problem?” Mickey lived up to his nickname; his face was pinched and his nose twitched like a rat’s. He scowled then gestured to his one pierced ear.

“Boss made me take out my cool new earring. Just hold my stud for a second, will ya?” He held out a small grey earring. Jesse reached out to take it -

“Ah!” He jerked his hand back as it seared with a flash of pain. The action made the earring skitter out of Mickey’s hand, and the two watched helplessly as it rolled underneath a storage fridge.

“Uh - whoops. Sorry, my hand spasmed. Been drinkin’ too much lately.” Jesse gabbled, his mind running frantically. _Shit, that earring must have been silver._

“Ugh. Thanks, old man. Now it’s gonna seal over!” Mickey complained. His thin eyes, just for a second, glanced suspiciously at Jesse. Then the confrontation was over, and Mickey grumbled his way out of the room. Jesse licked his dry lips, holding his gently aching hand. His racing heart slowed eventually. Damn, that had hurt. He swallowed, shook his head slightly, then returned to stacking boxes. The light above him flickered gently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :0 new characters everywhere! What could Winston be, I wonder? ;3
> 
> 'Kuso' means 'shit' or 'damn' in Japanese.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this new chapter! It was a little bit of a struggle to get it to be over 2,000 words long but I scraped by!


	6. Cashiers, stalkers and a bite to eat

In the week that followed, Jesse found himself spending more and more time at the little blue cafe. The day after his first visit, he’d come in with his laptop to do ‘research in a stimulating environment’ - or so he’d told himself - but had been (quite easily) convinced by Lena to go meet the rest of the staff. The first introduction had been to Dr. Winston, the owner of cafe Gibraltar. He was a large man with strong, dark features and black glasses. Jesse still didn’t know his first name; everybody seemed to just call him by his surname. The ‘doctor’ thing hadn’t been elaborated to him either.

“Howdy. You’ve got a mighty fine establishment in this here cafe. It’s...” Jesse’s sentence had trailed off, his mind too enraptured by Winston’s office. He stared around it, taking in the colourful spectacle. The walls were covered in photographs of galaxies, nebulae, the moon. A few frames had the smiling faces of employees standing with Winston, but Jesse noticed that Hanzo wasn’t in any.

“Thank you. It’s been a pillar of Tivolson city’s supernatural community for nearly a decade now. Now, I heard that you saved Hanzo from a group of werewolves a few days ago.” Winston mentioned, his golden eyes looking at Jesse questioningly.

“It was nothin’, really. Couldn’t a’ just left him.” Jesse replied with a sheepish chuckle.

“Thank you.” Winston’s voice was calm and serious. “Hanzo hasn’t been working here for long, but he’s a valued part of our family.” Jesse fidgeted slightly, caught off guard by the gratitude.

“Did Lena tell you that we’re hiring?” Winston’s eyes gained a spark of humour.

“Yeah. Might just take you up on that offer.” Jesse replied with a smile.

* * *

The second meeting the next day was quite a bit more odd. Lena led Jesse excitedly out to the front of the cafe. The tables were empty and the door was closed, a ‘back in five minutes!’ sign resting in the window.

“Don’t want anybody to see this, in case he gets too excited.” Lena said with a wink, which left Jesse mystified. She grinned and pointed to the cash register. 

“Meet Bastion!” The register was beige and old, covered in dents and the odd scratch mark. The sticker beholding its (his?) name was peeling at the corners. Jesse stared blankly at it.

“Uh… Hello, Bastion.” He raised his hand in slow, paused movements. An embarrassed blush crept up his neck. Lena must be pulling his leg. With another confused look at her, he waved at the machine.

_Beep beep!_

“Argh!” Jesse yelped and jumped backwards. “Did that thing just -” _Bebeep beep!_ The cash register was blipping and dooting to its heart's content, and Jesse could swear it was vibrating ever so slightly. He glanced wildly to and from the machine and Lena, recoiling every time it hummed.

“Is that thing alive?” He asked, eyes widening in disbelief. Lena laughed.

“No idea! Reinhardt just found him on the side of the road one day and brought him in. He only talks to people he likes, so you must be special!” She replied. Jesse bit his lip and side eyed Bastion. For a machine without eyes, it sure felt like the cash register was staring right at him.

Ring! 

The door’s bell jingled loudly. Jesse and Lena turned around to see Hanzo, out of breath in the doorway. His hair hung haphazardly over his flushed face. He took a deep breath, then having composed himself, stood up straight. Jesse raised his eyebrows. 

“That werewolf is following me.” Hanzo said after a pause. “I don’t want to lead him here, but I needed to warn you. Close the store down for the day.” 

“Are you sure? Alright then! It was almost closing time anyway!” Lena replied. The cheer in her voice trailed away in Hanzo’s serious stare.

“Lock the doors.” Hanzo barked, then turned on his heel. 

“Hey - hey now, hold on.” Jesse said, reaching out a hand and gesturing for him to stop. “You can’t go back out there alone. I’ll walk you home.” 

“I don’t need your assistance.” Hanzo replied, pushing the door open. In one swift movement, Jesse pulled his jacket down from the cafe’s coat hanger and shrugged the dark brown fabric onto his shoulders.

“I don’t like to leave anything to chance. If that guy is bad enough for you to think this place is in danger, there ain’t no way in hell I’m letting you leave alone.” Jesse replied firmly. Hanzo frowned, and clearly looked tempted to argue, but didn’t reply. Instead he made that oh-so-irritating huffing noise, and walked through the door. Feeling slightly like a lost puppy, Jesse followed him into the cold outside wind. The wind caught the door and slammed it behind him. 

“This fella sure is interested in you.” Jesse commented as he followed Hanzo down the street. The wind picked up, making him clutch his jacket tightly. 

“He’s the leader of a local pack. Since I inadvertently insulted him, he wants me dead.” Hanzo replied quickly. His voice was nearly lost in the gale and Jesse sped his pace trying to keep up. They went down an alleyway, across a road, along a cracked and dirty street. Around them, Tivolson was silent save for the whistling wind. Jesse quickened his step, nearly running now, and managed to get next to Hanzo on the footpath. 

“He can’t just kill you! It’s - it’s illegal! And besides, he ain’t shit until the full moon.” Jesse replied. He could feel the coldness in Hanzo’s voice before the man even began to speak.

“The police force wash their hands of supernatural activity. They’re cowardly dogs, too afraid of us to even acknowledge our existence.” He spat. Jesse’s forehead wrinkled worriedly.

“Well, shit. We’re all alone, aren’t we? All us,” he hesitated for a moment, “all us monsters.”

Something in Hanzo’s expression changed to make him look almost sympathetic. “We have each other. And don’t say monster, many consider it a slur.”

* * *

Hanzo lived in a rundown apartment building next to a dilapidated basketball court. The interior was washed with a sad palette of grey and darker grey, with a few speckles of black for variety. His room was on the third floor, number 305. The instant he opened the plain grey door, a calming scent of incense trailed out, surrounding Jesse like a blanket. His apartment was a little bigger than Jesse’s, but considerably darker. Jesse followed Hanzo into the small lounge, and whistled at the black bow leaning on the modern couch. 

“You do archery? Fancy.” He commented. The lights were yellow and a little dim, casting murky shadows in the corners of the room. Minimalist decorations included incense on a small table, and a painting of koi on an otherwise bare wall. A small television rested beneath it. A grey door seemed to lead to the rest of the apartment. Other than that, the room was empty. From the corner of his eye, Jesse noticed a small selection of knick-knacks resting on the windowsill - a bowl, a small black stand, and a brown feather. On the table rested a letter addressed ‘ _Hanzo Shimada_ ’. Shimada...

“It is an enjoyable pastime.” Hanzo looked much more relaxed in the safety of his apartment, and Jesse was taken aback slightly when he took off his jacket and tossed it on the sofa. There was something about Hanzo doing something untidily that unnerved him. Under his jacket, Hanzo was wearing a black shirt with Japanese writing on it. 

“Do you partake in any sport?” Jesse blinked and looked up, discovering he’d been staring at the shirt’s writing. 

“I used to do a lot of horse riding and gunslingin’ back home. Now I just go on soul-killing runs in the morning. Doesn’t look like it’s helping much.” Jesse said with a chuckle, gesturing to his stomach.

“I find running at dusk is much more enjoyable.” Hanzo replied, glancing out the window. It was dark outside already.

He looked up at Jesse. “I hope you are not allergic to fish?”

* * *

“What’s this called again?” Jesse looked at the golden pieces of fish in front of him, next to a small bowl of rice. He’d helped Hanzo prepare the meal almost wordlessly, pleasantly surprised at being offered dinner. Now, as they sat at Hanzo’s small table, he admired the food in front of him.

“Saba miso.” Hanzo replied, passing him a pair of chopsticks. Jesse’s mind froze. He was going to have to eat with chopsticks? He took them with a lopsided smile and discreetly tried to arrange them in his hand.

“ _Itadakimasu._ ” Hanzo said, then began to eat. Jesse fumbled with his chopsticks - almost - there. He tentatively reached for a piece of fish. It slipped out of his grasp like an eel in a river. He glanced up to see Hanzo watching his attempts to eat with a curious expression. He smiled rigidly and doubled his efforts to pick up the fish. It darted away from him again and again, teasing him. To Jesse’s alarm, Hanzo had gone slightly pink. Was he angry? Had he insulted him in some sort of Japanese tradition?

Jesse was nearly about to break into a cold, awkward sweat when Hanzo put down his chopsticks. Jesse froze. Hanzo went a darker shade of pink. Then… he laughed. It started off as a chuckle, then began to crescendo into full blown laughter, making tears bloom in his eyes. Jesse started to laugh too, and the two sat there, cheeks hurting and sides convulsing, until finally Hanzo wiped his eyes and took a deep breath.

“You only had to ask for a fork.” He said, still chuckling. Jesse felt his cheeks go scarlet, but he couldn’t stop another burst of laughter escaping him as he reflected on the absurdity of the situation. Hanzo sure did have a crazy sense of humour.

“Now that was just cruel!” Jesse protested, still with a smile on his face. He accepted a fork gratefully and instantly began to ravenously destroy the meal in front of him.

“How do you even afford this fish?” He mumbled through a mouthful of rice.

“There is a weekend market downtown where fishermen sell their catches cheaper than the stores. The nearest lake is quite plentiful, I’m told.” Hanzo replied. Jesse admired the way he dexterously held the wooden chopsticks, elegantly manoeuvring morsels of food from the bowl to his mouth.

“Things must be pretty different here.” Jesse said abruptly, making Hanzo glance up.

“From what?”

“You know, Japan.” Jesse said. He noticed Hanzo tense up ever so slightly, and winced. Had he pried where he wasn’t wanted?

“Yes, they are.” Hanzo replied after a short pause. “I find myself becoming perplexed at small things every day - for example, you do not change shoes when entering buildings.” He explained. Jesse raised his eyebrows. 

“Change shoes? Like, a whole new pair for being in your house? That must get expensive.” He remarked. Hanzo made a slight shrugging gesture.

“And you? How is this country different to America?” He asked with a curious smile. The expression made the harsh angles of Hanzo’s face feel a little less sharp.

“Damn colder!” Jesse replied with a laugh. “When I first came here I didn’t realise how chilly winters got. My nose nearly froze off!”

He realised it then, in between smiles and laughter. Eating with someone again, talking about everything and nothing over dinner… It felt good. Jesse went to spear another piece of fish, only to discover his bowl was empty.

“Here, I’ll wash up.” He offered with a smile, scooping up his and Hanzo’s bowls. He carried them into the kitchen, rolled up his sleeves, and began to wash away the slimy scraps of fish.

“Thank you. You are… quite kind.” Hanzo’s voice floated into the room.

“A compliment? Well blow me down with a feather!” Jesse teased. Hanzo joined him in the kitchen and stood next to him, rinsing his cup. He was standing close enough for Jesse to see the muscles in his arms, stocky and strong despite their elegance. His collarbone peeked out from his shirt’s dark collar. His brow was at its usual intensity, making his expression stern - although Jesse now suspected that his serious shell did not extend to the core. Hanzo’s dark eyes glanced to Jesse and he looked away hurriedly, realising he’d been staring. He glanced out the window to avoid making any more eye contact to find darkness had fallen.

“I’d best be getting home.” He said, turning off the tap. 

“Do you know the way back?” Hanzo asked. 

“Ah, I’m sure my phone can send me in the right direction. As long as the creek don’t rise I’ll be fine.” He replied. Hanzo looked at him with a puzzled expression.

“You say the strangest things.” He murmured. Jesse winked. 

“That’s just the southerner way. Hows about next time you get stalked by a crazy werewolf, we go to my place?” He offered. “I make a mean mac n’ cheese.” 

Hanzo looked at him apprehensively, but his line of a mouth eventually creased into a slight smile. “That would be nice.” He replied. 

“See you round, partner.” Jesse said, and with a sly grin, made a gesture of tipping an imaginary hat. Hanzo raised an eyebrow and - ah - there it was, that royal huff, followed by an upturned nose. Jesse gave one last smile, then trundled out of the apartment. The door clicked softly closed behind him. He looked around himself, then pulled out his phone. He gently rubbed the symbol on the back.

“Hey, Amari.” He murmured. “I think I found myself a friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saba Miso is a japanese meal made out of mackerel and usually eaten with steamed rice. You can learn more about it here: http://www.japanfoodaddict.com/seafood/saba-miso/
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Comments are much appreciated :3


	7. City lights, friendly nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long wait! School and stress got to me. Thank you for being so patient ^3^

“Hey, Doc. Hey, Doctor Winston. Hi, Winston.” Jesse stared at the door to Winston’s office, eyes tracing to the top, to the doorknob, down to the floor. Over and over again. 

“Hello. Howdy. Hey there.” None of the introductions he tried sounded right. He sighed and resignedly raised his hand to knock. Rap rap rap.

“Come in.” Jesse gently pushed the door open. Winston sat behind his desk, smiling at Jesse with an expectant look on his face.

“Well howdy.” Damn it! He could have said hello, said hi, said anything with a trace of etiquette! Jesse bit down a grimace and forced it into a smile. “Hope I’m not interrupting something important.”

“Of course not. Is there something on your mind?” Winston’s dark eyes watched him warmly. 

“Y’see, back when I first came here you offered me a job here. Mighty kind of you, and I was wondering whether I could take you up on that offer.” The words spilled out like rain from a gutter, fueled by Jesse’s anxiety.

“I’m not a crack hand at much t’ do with cooking, but I figure I’ll -”

“Yes.” Winston gently butted into his sentence. “We’d all love to have you here.” 

Jesse felt a wave of relief wash over him. The looming threat of rent instantly disappeared from his mind.

“Thank you. So, when can I start?”

* * *

Some things in life are indescribable. The euphoria of love, the agony of loss. And the intense pain of listening to blisteringly loud pop songs for an hour. Jesse winced as Reinhardt belted the lyrics to yet another song while furiously mixing batter. Flour was everywhere in the cafe’s kitchen, smeared across the counter.

_“I’m hooked on a feeling_  
_I’m high on believing_  
_That you’re in love with me_ ” 

Jesse could barely think about the pastries ready to be glazed before him, mind completely captivated by Reinhardt’s booming. He found himself brushing the egg glaze to the rhythm of the mind numbing synth. After an eternity, the song finally, blissfully, ended, and Reinhardt (thank god) paused his old cd player.

“I love Hasselhoff!” he proclaimed with a grin. Jesse smiled back weakly and handed him the tray of apple turnovers.

“Very good! A little uneven, but good for a beginner.” Reinhardt chuckled at his own joke. He was wearing the same well-endowed apron as the first time Jesse had seen him, and it made his broad shoulders look even more disproportionate. The old man easily dwarfed Jesse as he lumbered past to put the turnovers in the oven. Surely he had to be some kind of giant. At this point Jesse was prepared to believe someone if they told him they were a ghost.

“I figure you’re part of this whole - supernatural thing.” Jesse skirted around the word ‘monster’ clumsily, remembering Hanzo’s words from yesterday. Reinhardt nodded.

“This blood is one hundred percent troll!” He said proudly, puffing his chest up. “That’s why I work in this dim little kitchen. Can’t let the sunlight touch me, or I turn to stone!” He laughed, making Jesse feel a bit concerned.

“That’s a short straw to draw, partner. I’m real sorry about that.” He said seriously. Reinhardt brushed off his words with a wave of his massive hand.

“It is nothing! I am always happy here. Even if Lena’s music tastes are… Questionable.” He let out another booming chuckle. “Now get back to glazing those turnovers. There are hungry customers waiting!”

* * *

On friday evening, Jesse had spent a solid 5 hours listening to Night Rocker, and was more than happy to accept Lena’s offer of a night on the town with the rest of the staff.

“You wouldn’t believe how many pub crawls I used to go on back home!” She commented, trotting ahead of Jesse on the dark sidewalk. She wore a scruffy bomber jacket that she hugged close against the chilly wind. Hanzo walked close by her, his hands in his jacket pockets. Reinhardt lagged behind with Jesse, trundling next to each other. Winston had politely declined the invitation, explaining he had paperwork to do. Just getting Hanzo to come along had taken a lot of convincing, so Jesse could imagine the time it would take to get Winston to come along.

“HA! You think you went on pub crawls!” Reinhardt laughed. “In Germany there is proper beer! Not like your pansy English stuff.” The moonlight bathed the group as they wandered the city streets, and Jesse found himself staring at the moon. It was close to being full... No. That was a worry for tomorrow morning. He looked back to the motley crew around him, finding Lena staring at him. 

“Well? I asked you a question, love. Ever been on a pub crawl?” She asked. Jesse shook his head.

“Ain’t many pubs out on the range. There was just the one near the ranch I worked on. Damn good drink there.” Memories resurfaced of warm evenings spent with the other ranch workers.

“Well, there won’t be any pub crawling tonight, Lena.” Reinhardt said firmly. “We’re going to a nice respectable place downtown.” Lena sighed, her drunken dreams abandoned.

“And this time, don’t get smashed and fall into the gutter.” Reinhardt lectured. Lena was about to make a sassy retort when her face lit up like a Christmas tree.

“There it is! The Four-leafed Clover! This time you have to play pool with me, Hanzo!”

Soon they were all settled down at a table in the bar, and a cheerful flow of conversation started. Lena dominated the conversation with endless stories of England, flying planes, and everything else on Earth.

“So I say, ‘he’s in Mauritius!’” Raucous laughter erupted around the table at Lena’s story. Her rosy cheeks got redder as she laughed at her own joke, beer threatening to slosh out of its mug. Their meals were nearly finished, and as the night wore on, everyone at the pub was getting tipsy. Everyone except for Jesse and Hanzo. Jesse wasn’t drinking to save money, but he could only guess at Hanzo’s abstinence.

“Hey, Hanzo.” Jesse said, and he turned to look at him. Now was as good a time as any to learn more about the reclusive man. “You do anything ‘cept for arching?” He asked. Hanzo seemed taken aback by the sudden question and took a moment to answer.

“I enjoy painting.” He replied. Disappointed by the short answer, Jesse tried a different tack. “You like movies? I’m a sucker for those old action movies.” He said. Hanzo nodded, and his solemn expression finally lifted.

“I like Indiana Jones. Those movies actually made me learn English.” Hanzo admitted with a slight chuckle. “Before that, I hated learning it. As a child it felt pointless. But the voice-overs in Japanese were always so flat and emotionless. They ruined the movie. After hearing that I knew I had to learn English as soon as possible.” He continued. Jesse laughed. 

“That’s a damn fine reason!” He replied. “Languages are a funny thing. I used to know Spanish near fluently, on the ranch. Now it’s all faded in my mind, probably couldn’t even hold a conversation.” He said forlornly. The conversation shifted to books, to food, to plays. While still reserved, it was obvious to Jesse that Hanzo was coming out of his shell more around him - a welcome change. 

“Well, I ain’t ever heard of Kabuki, but it sounds like fun.” The conversation drifted off for a moment, and Jesse looked around the table. Reinhardt and Lena were in animated discussion over… something… and the rest of the bar was full of equally excited customers. Jesse glanced at Hanzo, who seemed to also have suddenly remembered where he was. He looked visibly uncomfortable again, glancing around the room at the other diners, probably fearing the doe-eyed stare of an accidentally seduced woman.

“I’m going to take a breather outside.” Jesse announced, standing up.

“Ah, I’ll come with you.” Hanzo quickly said, obviously relieved at the opportunity to leave the room. Jesse quickly snaked through the mess of tables and people out into the open air. The cold wind hit him sharply, making him shiver as he trotted out onto the moonlit street. Hanzo followed close behind. Jesse watched as Hanzo closed his eyes and took several deep breaths of the frigid air.

“Thank you.” He said after a moment, his voice quiet.

“Ain’t nothin’, partner.” Jesse replied. He slowly sat down on the edge of the sidewalk, and after a moment’s hesitation Hanzo sat down next to him.

“Sure is beautiful tonight.” Jesse said, looking up at the moon. A cold gust wind blew by and he shivered slightly.

“It is.” Hanzo agreed. Jesse glanced at him. His dark eyes were watching the cars pass by, arms resting on his knees. He sure did have a nice jaw. He was certainly very attractive - his eyebrows were strong and dark with the hint of a crease between them. His eyes, too, were dark. And handsome. Suddenly their eyes locked, and Jesse’s breath hitched in his throat. His body leaned forward a fraction. Then Jesse looked away, running a hand through his hair. 

“Better get back inside before Lena drinks herself to death.” He fumbled for words, looking everywhere but at Hanzo. He hauled himself to his feet and helped Hanzo up. He couldn’t help but notice the rough callouses on his hands, or the tattoo that poked out from underneath his jacket. 

“Yes.” Hanzo’s voice was soft, nearly drowned out by the cars growling past. Jesse looked up to the bar’s entrance. The low bass of music trailed out to where he stood, hinting at the fun they were missing. Maybe he’d just have one beer.

* * *

“Jusch one more! I’mn gotta geth...” Lena’s eyes fluttered closed, a gentle snore emanating from her mouth. She slumped against Reinhardt even more as the four walked down the quiet street. He sighed and gently scooped her tiny form into his arms, carrying her like a sack of flour.

“She does this every time.” He said disapprovingly. “Like clockwork, just after midnight.” Jesse glanced at his phone - 12:20. 

“I haven’t been out this late in years!” He commented with a smile. He didn’t even feel a buzz from the single beer he’d drunk half an hour before. 

“You know, the real reason I go to that bar with Lena is because she lives close by.” Reinhardt said with a quiet laugh. The fact that he could talk quietly was a surprise in itself. Hanzo and Jesse followed him down a sloping street to a small apartment building. They waited on the sidewalk while he pressed one of the apartment’s buzzers. In a few moments, a red haired lady pushed open the building’s door.

“Thank you for taking her home, Reinhardt.” She said with a smile. After gently waking up Lena, the two disappeared back into the quiet building. Jesse glanced at Hanzo.

“I’d best be heading home.” He said with a sheepish smile. Hanzo looked at him with those intense, dark eyes, then nodded slightly.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, partner.” His hand rose to do that silly gimmick, the imaginary hat tip, but Hanzo glanced away. Jesse could have sworn a tint of pink was on his cheeks. He waved to Reinhardt, and started to trot down the street. At first, his mind went to Lena’s stories, but over and over his thoughts were drawn to sitting by the roadside with Hanzo. Replaying every moment. Wondering why it was so captivating. Hanzo’s intense eyes, the gentle shudder of his body as he leaned in then jerked away. Why had he done that? He’d probably looked like an idiot.

“Ouch!” He tripped on the uneven pavement and he flailed, nearly falling flat on his face. He hadn’t been looking where he was going, too deep in thought. He stared ahead determinedly for a few minutes. Then his eyes drifted upwards to the moon shining down on him. It was growing worryingly close to becoming full. What then? He recalled Hanzo’s words from when he’d first been bitten. 

_Liable to kill…_

He shivered. He’d have to talk about it tomorrow with Winston. Surely his logical mind would think up a solution. As it was, he could only quicken his pace, lower his head to the biting wind, and let anxiety gnaw at his gut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What could these emotions inside of Jesse be? :P
> 
> And yes, this fic follows the Tracer x Emily canon. Sorry, WidowTracer shippers!


	8. Clair de lune

There was nothing comforting about Winston’s warm, earthy office as Jesse walked inside. He shivered despite the temperature, glanced around like he was in a whole new world. The only thing that had prevented an unhappy night of drinking was his complete lack of alcohol, and hesitance to spend money (despite his new job). Due to his feelings not being muted by whisky, his dread had only built in the night leading up to meeting Winston - and now it had come to a head. He’d looked it up. The full moon was tonight. He felt a wave of repulsion at his own body, wondering what it might do.

“Hello, Jesse. You’re in early!” Winston looked up from his chunky black laptop and smiled. He could clearly see the dread in Jesse’s eyes, however, and slowly closed his laptop. He waited for Jesse to explain himself with a serious look on his face.

“Hey, Winston. I’m, ah… In a bit of a fix.” Jesse mumbled. Why had he left it so long?

“It’s the full moon tonight.” He continued. Winston nodded knowingly.

“Do you have any plans?” He asked. Jesse chuckled nervously.

“That’s kinda what I wanted to talk to you about.” He replied. Winston pushed his glasses up his nose and closed his eyes, deep in thought. He was so tranquil you could have mistaken him for a statue. Then, after a moment’s thought, he opened his eyes again.

“The cafe has a basement. It’s full of boxes right now, but I’m sure Hanzo will be happy to help you.” He said, and started to rummage through a desk drawer. He pulled out a lanyard of keys and passed it to Jesse. It only had a few keys on it but was laden with keychains, including a small squishy-looking banana and a plastic crescent moon.

“The smallest one is the basement key. Before the sun sets, you need to be in there with the door locked. I’ll make sure that everyone knows, don’t worry.” He smiled sympathetically.

“Thanks, Winston. I’ll try not to mess anything up too bad.” He replied. Winston waved him off. “It’s not your fault. You don’t need to worry about it. Just make sure that you put the boxes somewhere sensible.”

Jesse thanked him again and, clutching the keys so tightly it hurt, walked out of the room. The dread was lessened somewhat - but the fear still remained.

It took a while to find Hanzo - Reinhardt’s comment of ‘he’s in the storage room!’ had helped less than Jesse thought - but finally he located him in a dim corner, rifling through a folder full of paper.

“Howdy, partner-” The words had scarcely left Jesse’s mouth before Hanzo had leapt around and was holding his elbow dangerously close to Jesse’s throat. Cold - almost heartless - eyes bored into him. Then, as if he’d only just gained control of his body, Hanzo’s eyes seemed to focus and he stepped back.

“Sorry.” He said quietly. “You startled me.” 

Jesse raised his arms in surrender. “Whoah there, I’m just here to ask for some help. Can you help me clear out this place’s basement?” Hanzo looked at him with a guarded expression.

“That place is a mess. Why does Winston even want it cleaned up?” He asked. Jesse scratched his chin.

“Well, I might’a not realised the full moon was coming up so fast, an’ now I haven’t got anywhere to go except this place’s basement.” He chuckled sheepishly. Hanzo’s eyes, almost imperceptibly, rolled as if to say, ‘typical’.

“I see.” He said more than a little judgmentally. Jesse couldn’t help but ruffle indignantly.

“Wasn’t my fault! It’s been cloudy nearly all week!” He protested. Hanzo said nothing, instead putting back the folder he’d been looking through. He thrust a sheet of paper into Jesse’s hand.

“Give this to Lena first. I saw that werewolf outside again this morning. It would be unsafe for me to show myself.” Hanzo muttered. Jesse took the sheet from him and gave a small two-fingered salute; Hanzo only frowned.

* * *

“Cheers! I’ve been looking for this for days!” Lena bubbled. She chucked the paper under the cafe’s counter unceremoniously and it floated down to sit between a wad of receipts and a dirty cup.

“What is it, anywho?” Jesse asked, glancing around the store. No sign of anybody loitering outside, thank god.

“Just some old plumbing records. Reinhardt pulled on a tap too hard and now it won’t stop leaking. I swear he busts something every few weeks - it’s a wonder we stay afloat with his plumbing bills!” 

“Poor guy. Must be tough being in there all the time.” Jesse mused. His eyes roamed the tables - what was that splash of familiar blonde? 

“Dr. Ziegler!” Jesse said with a grin, trotting over to the tired looking woman. She looked up at him with a defeated smile, cradling a cup of coffee in her hands. She wore a large black parka, but Jesse could still see the faintest bumps on her back where her wings were tucked away.

“Hello, Jesse. How is your arm?” She asked. 

“It’s feeling mighty fine. Made sure to keep it clean, n’ now there’s barely a scar!” Jesse replied proudly, sticking out his arm for inspection. Despite her weariness Angela was quick to examine the remnants of the wound. 

“Mm, that’s good. I’ve got to say, it’s odd that a werewolf attacked you so violently when it wasn’t yet the full moon. Usually, the full moon brings in a lot of patients - I’ve already got one poor boy in from an attack...” She said in a hushed voice. Then she glanced at Jesse. “Are you going to be alright?”

Jesse waved off her worried question. “Don’t worry about me, Dr. Ziegler. These fine folk have my back. Now, I’d love to make good on having a coffee with you, but I have to sort out tonight’s arrangements.” He said with a smile.

“Take care, Jesse. And visit me afterwards for a checkup.”

* * *

By the time Jesse returned to the back of the cafe, he found Hanzo already in the basement - or, he assumed he was, because the door was open and dim light was filtering out. Stepping through the doorway, Jesse found himself at the top of a set of stairs. Books and manila folders were scattered around with wild abandon on the steps, making the trip to the bottom fraught with danger. In the area at the bottom was an ocean of boxes - sometimes in neat piles, sometimes strewn frantically as if someone had quickly needed to access their contents. The room smelled slightly mildewy and was significantly colder than the rest of the cafe.

“Hanzo?” Jesse called. His voice felt muffled by the cardboard and the cold.

“I’m in here.” Hanzo’s voice floated back. After carefully walking to the bottom of the stairs and searching for a while, he finally found Hanzo packing loose papers into a box.

“Most of these things are old and useless, but we don’t have time to sort through it today. Tale the boxes to the storage room.” He ordered. Jesse stared at the jungle of boxes around them.

“And what if there ain’t enough space in the storage room?”

“Then we start to fill up the staff room.” Hanzo replied. Jesse relented and picked up one of the smaller boxes.

“This place sure does have a lot of rooms. I ain’t ever seen another cafe’s staff area but I figured they’d be pretty small.” Jesse commented.

“This wasn’t originally a cafe.” Hanzo replied, still intently packing his box. “It was a restaurant. The staff room used to be for reserved tables and events.” Jesse raised his eyebrows. He watched appreciatively as Hanzo deftly and efficiently filled a box with papers. That one mystifying lock of hair hung over his stern face, bobbing gently as he moved. After a few moments Hanzo glanced at him and he realised he’d been staring, and hurriedly went off to deliver his box.

* * *

It took about until four o’clock before Jesse began to feel odd. He and Hanzo had been stacking boxes for an eternity - well long enough for the word ‘box’ to have been repeated enough times to lose any meaning. He’d just gone back to pick up another box when he felt an unusual prickling on his skin. It was a hot tingle that spread like a rash up his arm. He held out his arm and inspected it suspiciously - no red rash, or any kind of insect bite. Then, a half hour after that, he felt overcome by an especially vicious and sour mood.

“Jesse, can you help me move this old bicycle?” Hanzo asked, reaching out to touch his shoulder. Jesse shuddered at the touch and whipped around, a stormy glare on his face. What the hell did Hanzo think he was doing?

“Don’t fucking touch me.” He growled. Then, the malignant cloud vanished and Jesse went red.

“I mean - fuck, I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was - what I was doing.” He stepped away from him in bewilderment. Hanzo looked at him critically, not seemingly affected by Jesse’s outburst.

“It’s happening.” He declared. 

“Jesus, when you say it like that it sounds like the apocalypse.” Jesse said. He looked around the room - it was nearly empty and only a few boxes remained. 

“I thought it happened when the moon came out!” He protested. Hanzo shook his head, his stare unerringly serious. “That’s only the turning. There’s more than just the transformation.” He replied. Jesse shook his head, teeth grit tightly.

“I need a goddamn cigarette.” He muttered. The prickling sensation grew stronger.

“Tell me if anything changes.” Hanzo ordered. He left with another box, leaving Jesse alone in the room. He started to fish through his pockets, searching for a discarded cigarette butt or a lighter. How the hell had he gotten into this mess? All he pulled from his pockets was fluff and ripped paper. The prickling feeling extended down his spine. Slowly he lowered himself onto an (already crumpled) box and gripped onto the edge of his impromptu seat tightly. A wave of vertigo crashed over him, making him waver and struggled for balance. Damn it, this was like a hangover from hell. He lost track of how much time he spent clinging for dear life to the box, shivering slightly. After an eternity he glanced at his phone - five already? 

“Jesse. Look at me.” Jesse realised his eyes were closed, and slowly forced them open. Reinhardt’s hand was on his shoulder, nudging him gently. Fucking hell, couldn’t they ever leave him alone?

“Get off me.” He growled, pushing his hand off. He tried to stand but discovered the strength of gravity was more than he could fight against and instead collapsed back into his seat.

“It’s you assholes who got me into this mess. Don’t pity me now.” He snarled. He could hear them talking to each other, far, far away.

“It’s starting.”

“But the moon isn’t out yet.”

“I don’t know why. It doesn’t matter.” Suddenly hands were touching him, gently holding his quivering muscles.

“Jesse, we’re going to put your phone in Winston’s office, so you don’t break it during the night.” A hand carefully extracted his phone from his front pocket. Jesse snarled and gripped the arm for dear life, sinking his nails into it.

“Let go!” He snapped, eyes screwed shut again. “Don’t try and steal that from me too!” He was being held down, pushed to the ground as he snarled and writhed. Waves of anger crashed over him, filling him with even more hatred. He couldn’t think straight - his teeth were stretching painfully into fangs, puncturing his lips and drawing blood that frothed in his mouth. His bones were shifting, his skin was transforming, his ears were burning.

“Stop-” He spat out one last cry before all he could muster were snarls and growls. Suddenly, the hands holding him down disappeared and he scrabbled to his feet. He ran for the door but it slammed shut before he reached it. He scratched at the door in vain. All he could smell was the vicious tang of his own blood, all he could hear was the rushing in his ears. 

All he felt was hunger.

* * *

He’d tried to get out of the room until 3. The door, the walls, the floor - he’d thrown himself at every possible avenue of escape, clawing and hurling himself at every surface until he was a bloody mess. Then he’d blacked out. Now he was rudely woken up by a burning pain all over his body. He moaned and curled into a ball. This was worse than the time he’d been trampled by a horse as a kid. He forced his eyes open and found himself facing a wall. With a groan, he pushed himself to a sitting position. His clothing seemed somewhat intact, against all odds.

“Shit…” He winced as he noticed a large gash running across his left shoulder. In fact, he was covered in cuts and bruises - although he didn’t feel any broken bones, thank god. He pushed himself to his feet, and immediately crumpled back to the floor. The cold floor was somehow quite soothing on his burning cheek, and soon he was asleep again.

* * *

_“Don’t hesitate to shoot. Never hesitate.”_

_“I never do!”_

_“Hah. Try telling that to the pheasant that got away from you yesterday. He’s bleeding. Jesse, open your eyes.”_

“Open your eyes.” Punishingly bright light was forcing Jesse’s eyelids open. The dull sensation of pain was aching in every inch of his body. 

“Lena, call Dr. Ziegler.” He looked around slowly, letting his eyes adjust to the light. He could see Hanzo above him, saying something - something… Jesse felt bandages being wrapped around his arm.

“I’m okay.” He mumbled. Hanzo was above him again, looking stern. He always looked so stern. “Don’t try to get up, Jesse. Dr. Ziegler’s coming, you just need to stay still.”

“I’m okay, ‘ve been through worse.” Jesse replied blearily. His hazy mind slowly connected the events of the previous night. “Shit… Hey, Hanzo, ‘m sorry ‘bout that mean stuff I said… Didn’t mean none ‘f it...” He murmured. His eyes slid closed and he could already feel himself slipping back into unconsciousness. Before he fell asleep, he could have sworn he felt a kiss gently plant itself on his bloody lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	9. Emotions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! I just want to preface this chapter by thanking you all so much. This fic is definitely my most ambitious yet and all the super kind comments you guys leave have given me tons of motivation! I read and appreciate every last one of them - in fact, they are what drive me! So thank you all so much, and I hope you all enjoy this new chapter! <3

When Jesse awoke, he was momentarily in bliss. The bed he was in felt heavenly, like a soft ocean of feathers and silk. He got to revel in the feeling for a few seconds - then the pain set in. His arm ached, his head throbbed, his skin felt like it was on fire. He groaned and slowly opened his eyes. 

“Ugh…” He was in a dim room, he could make out that much; for some reason his vision was blurry. 

“Good morning, Jesse.” He looked around and saw a familiar blob watching him.

“Mornin’, Angela.” He mumbled back with a small grin. “Guess I owe you two coffees now.” 

Angela seemed to smile. “Just relax, Jesse. You’ve been asleep for a very long time.” Jesse forced his eyes open a little more.

“Who… Where’s Hanzo n’ Lena…?” He asked quietly. 

“They’re at work. After they picked you up on sunday morning you slept all day. It’s monday morning now. No, don’t try to get up.” Jesse had tried to push himself into a sitting position, but Angela gently guided him back down again. “I’ll call them. You just need to rest.” The blob that was Angela left the room, and Jesse felt the allure of sleep sinking in again. Before he sank back into slumber, he mused that at least, despite all this, he was getting a monday off to sleep.

* * *

“I dunno if I can thank y’all enough.” Jesse said cheerfully. His vision had finally righted himself, so he could clearly see Lena and Hanzo’s worried faces as they sat at Angela’s table with him. Harsh light shone in from the lounge window, bathing them in cold blue light. Jesse gingerly took a sip of water and Lena winced.

“It ain’t that bad, is it?” He asked, looking down at himself. 

“Ah… Love, have you seen your face? You might not feel bad but you look like right shit.” Lena replied. Jesse touched his face gently; sure enough, his fingers brushed over the raised ridges of gashes and the tender marks of bruises. 

“Yeah, ‘pparently I’m on some cocktail of drugs right now so I don’t feel like keeling over and dying.” Jesse said. “It’ll be all gone in a week though, so Angela tells me.” He continued. Hanzo’s previously impassive face pinched slightly. 

“When I found you, you were… covered in blood. You must have been trying to get out of the room, because you’d got it on the door, the walls…” Lena trailed off, her face troubled. Abruptly Hanzo pushed himself away from the table, and strode out of the room. Lena winced again and fidgeted.

“Is he okay?” Jesse queried. He shifted in his seat, trying to see where Hanzo went. The sudden movement sent a dull ache through his body and he slumped back down again with a frustrated grunt. Lena’s fidgeting grew more erratic.

“He’s, ah… I don’t know.” She confessed. “He doesn’t talk about his past, but sometimes he gets like this. He doesn’t talk to anybody, he closes himself off… Something must have happened, but he just won’t talk about it.” She continued forlornly. They sat there glumly for a moment, Lena glancing at Jesse’s wounds then quickly looking away, Jesse racking his brain to think what was plaguing Hanzo. Something in the near past plagued him, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember what it was. After a few seconds of silence, Lena stood up and gave Jesse a sympathetic smile.

“Sorry love, but I’ve got to get back to work. You don’t want Reinhardt thinking you’ve skived off when there’s a backlog of dishes to clean!” Her chipper voice faltered for a moment. “Give me a ring if you need anything, Jesse. I think Hanzo agreed to take you to his place so you could rest - maybe you’ll make him feel better.” Lena gave him one more quick wave, and zipped out of the room before he could say goodbye.

“Well, I ain’t much for waitin’ around.” He mumbled, heaving himself to his feet. It took a few moments but he eventually hobbled out of the lounge in search of Angela. He eventually found her by her front door, examining what looked like a plastic box full of various medicines. She looked up as he walked closer, and smiled.

“Good morning, Jesse. Are you feeling any pain?” She asked.

“Only everywhere, doc. I’ll be alright, I’ve had worse.” He replied with a wobbly grin. She made a concerned face but relented, and put the box back into its perch on a cupboard.

“Thanks for this, doc. This time round I’m gonna pay you back in full. And I’m sure we’ll get round to that coffee real soon.” He said. She smiled, her wings fluttering slightly.

“I appreciate it. Now, I’m really sorry for rushing you out, but I’ve had a call that a reincarnating phoenix needs some help downtown. Hanzo’s waiting outside, I think - he offered to take care of you today.”

“Really, I’m sure I’m just fine - if I just go home and rest-”

“Jesse McCree, you will absolutely not go home alone. Your bandages need to be changed at midday, you are in no state to prepare a meal, and I’m not at all confident in your ability to walk unassisted.” She replied sternly. Jesse mumbled back a small protest but relented, instead giving Angela a hug.

“Send me a bill, won’t ya? An’ don’t worry, I’ll call ya if anythin’ else happens.” He said with a smile. Angela thrusted some more medical advice upon him, before finally letting him into the building’s corridor. Hanzo was standing next to the door, staring at an imaginary spot on the wall besides him with an oppressive air of severity emanating from him. The white door closed behind him and Jesse found himself alone with Hanzo, who still hadn’t acknowledged his presence.

“Ah… So, Lena n’ Angela tell me you’ve offered to keep an eye on me so I don’t die.” Jesse said with faltering enthusiasm. Hanzo didn’t even look at him.

“We are taking the bus to my home. We must hurry or we will miss it.” He nearly barked the statement. Jesse nodded and gripped onto Hanzo’s shoulder.

“I’m a mite shaky, don’t mind me.” He said with a weak smile. The severity of Hanzo’s glare was concerning, but he figured now wasn’t the time to press the issue. Maybe when they were safely at Hanzo’s house, he would see if Hanzo was alright. As it was, they walked in silence, Jesse’s knuckles white as he gripped Hanzo’s shoulder in a struggle for balance. He spent the time trying to call up that fleeting memory that had struck him earlier.

* * *

The bus ride had been hell. Jesse’s only solace from the uncomfortable silence had been staring out the window, watching as snow fell softly around them. Despite so many months in Canada, it still surprised him - it had never been cold in New Mexico, let alone snowy. He was still getting used to the cold, and his red-tinged nose was incredibly thankful for the buses heating system.

Finally the bus stopped and they walked (or hobbled, in Jesse’s case) to Hanzo’s apartment building. To Jesse’s immense relief, halfway there Hanzo’s glare slowly became less black, and by the time they were inside his warm apartment he was almost back to his (admittedly stern) normal self. Jesse immediately wobbled over to his couch and slumped down on it. He hissed in pain, swearing under his breath. Hanzo immediately stormed into his kitchen. Jesse readjusted his painful position on the sofa and glanced over at Hanzo.

“Can’t thank you enough for this, Hanzo.” He said. “Last night was kind of crazy, huh.” He bit his lip when he got no reply.

“Hey, are you alright? You just seem a little, you know, grumpy.” He tentatively asked.

“I am not grumpy.” Hanzo replied. It was hard to tell whether this was supposed to be consoling or angry. He finally walked out of the kitchen and sat down on the couch next to Jesse. His whole body looked like it was being held tight, muscles locked in place.

“Angela said your bandages need to be changed at noon. I’ve taken the day off, so -”

“Hanzo. Stop avoiding my question.” Jesse said firmly. Hanzo bristled, his brow knitting together. He seemed about to argue but Jesse cut him off.

“Naw, don’t start arguing. You’ve been weird today, and you’ve been weird like this before and you never give any explanation! How’re we supposed to be supportin’ friends if you won’t ever talk?” He snapped. 

“It is not your concern.” Hanzo growled.

“It goddamn is! Maybe back when I was just getting myself into this mess, then it wasn’t. But now I’m your friend, whether or not you’re going to accept it. An’ that makes your happiness my concern. So how ‘bout you tell me what’s wrong, and I help you,” Jesse replied firmly. Hanzo stared at a spot on the wall for a moment, refusing to reply. After a pause, however, he finally sighed and looked Jesse in the eye.

“I come from a long family of succubi and incubi. My father, his father, and his father before him all carried a strong legacy, and my father was proud of being supernatural. My brother, Genji, is not an incubus. He was born a normal human, and my father couldn’t help but be disappointed. He left Japan to get away from our father, and I let him leave. I was too selfish to risk our father’s wrath.” Hanzo’s voice was speeding up slightly, losing its articulate edge.-

“By the time I became anxious of his safety, it was too late. He died in Nepal from a blizzard.” 

Jesse’s eyes widened. “Shit, Hanzo - I’m real sorry -”

“ _You-_ ” Hanzo cut him off in an accusatory voice. “ _You_ had to come into my life. I am without honour, without hope of redemption. I do not deserve any other person after I failed Genji. But you insist on being friendly, and I do not wish it so, but I find myself appreciating it.” 

“It is dishonourable and I am not worthy of such feelings and yet I still -” Hanzo stopped abruptly. Jesse had gently leant forward and placed a hand on his knee. A shiver like an electric shock travelled up Hanzo’s body, and his glassy black eyes widened. 

“Hanzo. Look at me. Take a deep breath.” Hanzo recoiled slightly from the sudden touch, but he obediently took a haltering breath.

“Now, I don’t know much about what you’ve been through. Sounds like you’ve been through a lot of things no man should be forced to endure. But you don’t have to be alone through it. Life ain’t fair, but you ain’t ever alone. Not ever.” He reassured Hanzo firmly. Their eyes met and Jesse’s breath hitched in his throat. 

“I… I do not deserve your support.” Hanzo mumbled, glancing away. Jesse frowned.

“Now I know that’s some bullhockey. You saved my life!” He argued. Hanzo didn’t reply. He looked down at the ground, high cheekbones tinged red.

“Hey now - look here, that’s right, open your eyes ‘n look at me.” Jesse suddenly stopped. 

_Open your eyes…_

The morning’s memories came back to him in a rush. Had Hanzo... kissed him? He stared at him, desperately trying to form a sentence.

“Hanzo, this morning… Are you…” Hanzo blushed more, and looked firmly away from Jesse, turning his whole body away. 

“Hey now, don’t be like that. Would’ve appreciated a little warning first, but I think I can forgive you.” Jesse said gently. Hanzo slowly turned to face Jesse again. His was nervousness evident in his eyes. Jesse suddenly felt gripped by a powerful confidence. If it was now or never, then by hell it was gonna be now.

“You know, Hanzo, I’ve been feelin’ the same sorta things about you.” He said quietly. “Been meanin’ to tell ya, but there’s never really been a good moment. Now’s as good a time as any, right?” He chuckled sheepishly. Hanzo seemed petrified from this new information and was simply staring at Jesse with a look of mild confusion and surprise.

“Hey now - is this alright?” Jesse slowly shuffled closer. Soon their breath was mingling, and Jesse could smell the reassuring scent of incense lingering in the air. Time stood still. Jesse reached out to hold Hanzo’s arm.

Then they kissed.

It was gentle, slow, and a little awkward. Hanzo’s lips were soft, and the kiss went on for what felt like too long and not nearly long enough. Then Hanzo drew away, mumbling something in Japanese. Jesse smiled.

“Better not be saying anything bad about my kissin’ skills.” He chuckled. Hanzo looked at him with a doubtful look on his face. The expression shifted to being puzzled, then almost panicked, then somewhat accepting. Then Hanzo kissed him again.

And again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ~~It killed me inside to wait like 18,000 words for that kiss holy crap slow burns are hard~~


	10. Can't Say No

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! This chapter contains some mature content. If this squicks you, this chapter can be skipped without too much detriment to the overall plot - or just read the final section after the last horizontal line!

“How many times?”

“I don’t know, a lot.”

“Did you - you know - do it?”

“No!” 

“Alright, alright, don’t get your knickers in a twist!” Lena couldn’t help but giggle as Jesse’s cheeks flushed slightly red in indignation. They’d burrowed themselves away into the staff room - Lena had convinced Hanzo to cover for her at the counter. Jesse was growing somewhat suspicious that if it weren’t for Winston’s calm leniency, Lena would be out of a job by now. 

“Then what?” She whispered conspiratorially. Her whole body was leant forward, as if she was experiencing a gravitational pull towards Jesse’s gossip. 

“I dunno, we had lunch ‘n I ended up falling asleep and spending the night on his couch.” Jesse replied. Lena nearly squeaked, and had to bite her hand to muffle it. She was clearly enjoying Jesse’s story immensely and he found himself sincerely hoping she could keep a secret; the only reason he’d told her was because he felt he’d combust otherwise.

“Now he’s right back to ignoring me.” He complained. “He barely said anything on the way here - although he did look a lot happier, I s’pose… I just never know what in tarnation is going on inside his head.” 

Lena made a sympathetic noise. “It’ll be alright, love. Hanzo’s a little stiff, but all he needs is time.” She proclaimed confidently. Then her face lit up.

“I know what you should do! Do something nice. Get him a gift or something. Whenever Emily’s in a tizzy I do the dishes or buy her some flowers.” She said. Jesse raised an eyebrow.

“This ain’t my first rodeo, missy. Guys are a mite different and gettin’ a gift just don’t cut it. Especially when y’ain’t even partners! It’ll just spook him and then I’m damn sure he won’t want to talk.” He replied. Lena sighed. She tapped her chin, then smiled.

“What about just talking to him? Don’t overcomplicate things - just spend a couple quid on beers for the both of you and talk it out over lunch!” She proclaimed. Jesse considered this for a moment.

“I dunno, Lena - maybe he just needs time.” Even he could tell his voice sounded ingenuine.

“Alright then, love.” Lena replied reproachfully. She seemed to size him up for a moment, then sighed and stood up. Just before she left the room, she called, “You should talk to him!”. Then she was gone, and Jesse was left alone with his thoughts.

Maybe he should talk to Hanzo. Jesse chuckled quietly. When was the last time he’d been nervous about talking to a guy he liked? This felt like he was a teenager all over again. He hadn’t been this anxious the first time he’d talked to Lucas, all those months ago. Hell, he’d been overconfident! Spurred on by slightly drunken bravado, in a quiet country bar. Purring compliments into his ear - damn. Best not to think about it. He could already feel a lump growing in his throat.

“What are you, Jesse? Some damn sentimentalist?” He muttered. He tried to get his flurry of emotions in order, but he couldn’t shake the nostalgic bitterness. Things had been easier back then. None of this werewolf nonsense, no unspoken feelings. Just him and Lucas, in a new city, making their own way. He couldn’t count the number of cafes they’d been into, laughing and talking away their afternoons. The number of nights they’d embraced each other gently, Jesse kissing Lucas’s tan skin and whispering sweet nothings in his ear. He’d felt in love back then. Now - now he didn’t know what he felt. There was something complex about Hanzo, that made him feel like a wild tree - you could only guess at the history that had crafted so many weathered gnarls and roots. It was nothing like what he’d felt with Lucas - but somehow, it was similar. There was something that pulled him towards those black, cool eyes, that stern frown, the elusive lock of jet black haired that framed his face -

With a start, Jesse jerked himself upright. The sudden movement aggravated his healing wounds and he had to wait a moment before he could move again. After a moment of sitting there stewing in his own feelings, he wriggled his arm - no more pain - and checked his phone. Somehow, he’d been sitting deep in thought for a good half an hour. He blew out a gust of air and got to his feet - ah! Damn, too fast. He winced and braced himself on chair’s arm. Alright then. Enough lollygagging. What good was he as a friend (just a friend?) if he couldn’t even muster up the courage to talk?

* * *

_“I've been looking for freedom_  
_I've been looking so long_  
_I've been looking for freedom_  
_Still the search goes on”_

David’s voice was drumming into his mind. It echoed into every crevice of his being, eroding his will to live. There was never respite from the eternal 80s beats that blasted from Reinhardt’s radio, leaning precariously on the kitchen bench. Despite the torture, Jesse couldn’t help but feel good. There was something comforting about finally being back to work, despite his still-aching limbs - and the predatory thought that lurked in the back of his mind. You still haven’t spoken to him.

“You finally like my songs, eh?” Reinhardt boomed with a grin. Jesse realised he’d been humming the tune, and smiled.

“Guess they’ve grown on me!” He replied, lying through his teeth. He mixed the batter in front of him leisurely, in time with the music.

_It’s been a week._

_You still haven’t spoken to him._

He’d talked to Hanzo, of course. Courteous talk, the kind of mild conversation that Jesse excelled at and made old grandmas love him. Weather’s been crazy lately, you seen Lena’s new crazy idea for a recipe, and so on, et cetera, yadda yadda. But despite all the words he’d uttered, he felt like he still hadn’t said anything. They hadn’t mentioned that day, that one blinding kiss - or even the terrible night before it. He gave the batter one final, almost violent stir, then started pouring it into a muffin tray. The moment he’d finished, Reinhardt’s huge hands were already delicately lifting it away from him.

“Don’t overstir them!” He boomed, sweeping the tray away from Jesse and sliding it into the oven.

“Sorry, Rein. Just feeling a little cooped up. ‘N fact, would you mind if I go out and stretch my legs a little?” Jesse quickly added. He’d do it this time. He would…

“Alright then! But don’t be long, my favourite song is on next!” Reinhardt huffed. As Jesse passed, he thought he saw a wistful look in Reinhardt’s deep-set eyes. He nodded a farewell and slipped out of the warm kitchen into the cooler hallway. The cold air was a sharp contrast to the stuffy kitchen and he rubbed his arms as goosebumps prickled up. He trotted down the hallway and veered into the storage room. It was incredible that Hanzo still had work to do in there - he seemed to be in there every second of the day, dutifully organising, accounting and archiving the endless files and folders Winston had accumulated. 

“Hanzo?” His voice echoed back at him. The room’s naked lightbulb was on and it washed the boxes and drawers a comforting yellow. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Carefully, Jesse ventured through the immaculately stacked boxes. As he passed by a pile of dangerously tilting books, he caught a flash of raven black hair. 

“Hey, Hanzo.” He inched past the books. There was barely enough space between the stack and the wall behind them for a kid, let alone him. The books shifted worryingly.

“Jesse, don’t move.” Hanzo was beside him in an instant. Jesse froze and shot him a strained grin.

“Hey, Han.” He said. Hanzo looked at him with surprise for a moment, then dedicated himself to righting the leaning books. He had to stand on his tiptoes, arm arching around Jesse’s frozen form to hold the teetering volumes in place. Jesse tried to shimmy himself around to face Hanzo. Their faces were close, close enough to -

“Han, I was jus’ helping out Reinhardt in the kitchen an’ I thought -” His shoulder brushed the pile. Almost in slow motion, the pile of books collapsed, raining down on them. Jesse grunted as a particularly fat book hit him on the back. Finally, the cascade of literature ended and the two were left standing, slightly dumbfounded, in a pile of books. Jesse looked at Hanzo with an embarrassed expression.

“Uh, lemme pick those up.” He mumbled and dropped to his knees. Hanzo kneeled down too and they sat in silence for a moment, gathering books in their arms. Jesse paused, took a deep breath, and looked at Hanzo. Those cool dark eyes were watching him.

“Um. Hanzo… about, uh, when I came over to your place last week.” He began. Hanzo remained expressionless.

“I, ah, are we… was that…” He fumbled for words desperately, his cheeks burning. Goddamn, there was something about that stoic expression that made him speechless. Hanzo waited patiently as Jesse stopped and collected his thoughts. He abandoned his armful of books and Hanzo did the same, the two standing up quietly.

“Are we a thing?” He finally stammered. Hanzo watched him silently. Jesse felt an anxious wave roll through him. Then Hanzo glanced away.

“If you wish it to be so.” He murmured. Jesse’s anxiety was instantly replaced by a wash of relief and he broke into a relieved smile.

“I - I’d like that.” He replied. Then, tentatively, “You mind if we kiss?”

A small nod from Hanzo was all the prompting Jesse needed. He leant forward and their lips locked slowly. Jesse’s hand slipped down the curve of Hanzo’s muscles to rest on his hip as he drew him closer. Ever so slowly, their kissing became more passionate, until Jesse was lost in the feeling of being so, so close to Hanzo, enraptured by his touch. Jesse found himself pressed against a cupboard door, teeth biting at his lip and warm hands trailing down his collarbone. Hanzo’s kisses were awkward but bold, and Jesse felt like his body was melting with pleasure.

“Damn, you taste good, darling.” Jesse purred. He gently pulled away from Hanzo’s kiss and let his lips travel downward, making a trail of kisses down his neck. Hanzo breathed something in Japanese, his skin radiating heat.

“I thought I was the incubus.” He murmured. Jesse nipped his collarbone. “You sure as hell are, darling.”

Jesse felt like he was being unwound, a week’s worth of suspense and stress unravelling with every touch. He gave Hanzo one last kiss then reached down to pull off his shirt. As soon as he’d removed it he saw Hanzo staring at him with a distraught expression. Oh god, too fast.

“It’s alright, Han. You ain’t ever done this before, have ya?” He asked gently. Hanzo nodded, a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“Don’t worry, we don’t have t’ do anything you ain’t comfortable with.” He said, trailing his hand down Hanzo’s arm reassuringly. Hanzo’s burning cheeks lightened slightly.

“I apologise.” Hanzo spoke more softly than Jesse had ever heard before. Jesse dropped his shirt on the ground and embraced Hanzo again, giving him plenty of time to get used to the new situation before they kissed again. Hanzo’s hands explored his pecs, his stomach, every inch of his bared skin. Jesse’s heart dropped a little as Hanzo’s hands drifted across his stomach. Surely he couldn’t find his out of shape form attractive. To his relief, Hanzo continued to mark his neck with kisses, pressing with enough force that Jesse was sure he’d have marks tomorrow. With a tentative nudge, Jesse gently grasped the bottom of Hanzo’s shirt.

“This alright?” He murmured. 

“Yes. It is very alright.” Hanzo breathed. Jesse made short work of pulling off his black shirt, and admired the toned muscles beneath it. He immediately began to trace the lines of his muscles, their lips locked together.

It was then that he noticed something hard pressing against his thigh. He glanced at Hanzo with a bemused expression.

“Is that a silver stake in your pocket, darlin’?” He asked cheekily. Hanzo scowled at him, blushing intensely. Jesse slowly caressed his cheek.

“Hanzo… I can take care of that for you, if you want.” He murmured. He could almost see Hanzo’s muscles go taut - he could certainly feel them, and he quickly gave him space.

“It’s alright, Han, I didn’t mean t’ rush you.” He stammered. Hanzo shushed him with a finger to Jesse’s lips, and Jesse raised his eyebrows.

“I would,” Hanzo took a breath. “I would like that very much. But here? And what about…”

Jesse gently pushed Hanzo’s hand from his face, and winked.

“Nobody except us ever comes in here - and you should know a guy like me’ll have one in his wallet.”

And then the two were kissing again, never close enough, always pressing together tighter. Jesse’s hand trailed down and Hanzo visibly stiffened, clearly unused to someone else’s touch.

“It’s alright, darlin’. You can tell me to stop or slow down anytime.” Jesse murmured. 

“Don’t stop.” Hanzo’s voice was quiet but unexpectedly forceful. 

Well, damn. Jesse couldn’t say no to a voice like that.

* * *

“Pretty damn good, ain’t it.” Jesse mumbled. The two lay against the cupboard door, Hanzo’s head resting on Jesse’s shoulder. Their time together had been bliss and now the two relaxed in each other's company, recovering well spent energy. Jesse’s hand lazily traced circles on Hanzo’s shoulder, his mind locked on the previous events. 

“Yes. Very good…” Hanzo replied. Jesse bit his lip, then glanced down at Hanzo.

“Darlin’. You mind me callin’ you my boyfriend?” He asked. Hanzo looked at him drily.

“You are asking me after that just happened.”

“Just making sure!” Jesse stammered, making Hanzo laugh quietly. He watched in admiration as Hanzo’s normally stern features mellowed, his eyes closing and his frown disappearing as a laugh rumbled from his core.

The two lay there for longer than Jesse cared to guess, simply enjoying each other’s presence. Jesse noted that he’d probably long since missed Reinhardt’s favourite song (and thank god for that). He also noted that Reinhardt was the only consistent employee in the whole cafe. His mind wandered, left and right and nowhere in particular, until he was suddenly wrenched back into reality by Hanzo’s phone ringing.

“Mm. _Moshimoshi_ \- ah, hello. Oh, Miss Angela. Yes… Yes…” Hanzo’s expression started blank, but quickly changed to concerned.

“Yes. We will be there soon.” He ended the call and got to his feet faster than Jesse could blink.

“We need to go to Angela.” Hanzo commanded, helping Jesse to his feet.

“The werewolf pack is at her apartment.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hohoHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO
> 
> It took every fibre of my being to hold off for a good 20,000 words on the romance so heRE IT IS IN FORCE
> 
> Also, thank you so much again to everyone who reads and enjoys this story! Your comments and kudos mean the world to me <3
> 
> Moshimoshi - Hello (when talking on the phone)


	11. Wolf Pack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! This chapter contains violence.

Jesse hadn’t ever run so fast in his life. All unnecessary items had been abandoned in the rush to get to Angela’s house, leaving him wearing only a half-buttoned shirt against the freezing wind. He barely felt the sting, however. Every fibre of his being was focused on keeping up with Hanzo. Unfortunately, his recent sexual endeavour had tired him out quite a bit.

“Is she safe?” He gasped to Hanzo, who was running with no sign of fatigue.

“She is in her apartment. They are outside on the street. We will need to use a back entrance.” Hanzo replied. His words were clipped by the gale.

“Gotcha.” Jesse puffed. Never a goddamn minute’s peace anymore, was there. He tried to button up his shirt the rest of the way, and nearly tripped over a curb. He breathed a swear word and doubled his pace. The white street was passing in a blur. Thin snow was crunching under his heavy footsteps. A car honked at them - Jesse felt strangely disconnected from the sound - and passed dangerously close to him. 

“ _Kuso_ \- Jesse, stop!” Jesse was suddenly yanked back by his shirt collar. He choked for a moment, off balance, and glanced around the corner he was being pulled back from. A group of people were loitering around Angela’s apartment - one of them had a baseball bat - he was pulled back by Hanzo.

“Sorry, lost track of myself there.” Jesse mumbled. He took a ragged breath that barely satisfied his desperate need for air. Damn those cigarettes. He carefully peeked past the building they were tucked behind. Angela’s apartment was on the other side of the road, and breaking the white plane around it were dark smudges - a gang of people, who looked like they were waiting. The tallest one was swinging a baseball bat at imaginary tees. All of them were wearing black, spiky clothing. There was a sense of malice about them - Jesse felt that if he stared at them too long, their heads would twist back to reveal flaming eyes and fanged grins.

“So these are the assholes that attacked you n’ tore up my arm.” Jesse growled. He felt a dark hatred blooming within him. These fuckers didn’t know when to quit, huh.

“Be quiet!” Hanzo hissed back. Jesse nodded, trying to keep his rasping noises to a minimum. He used the interval to quickly right his flapping shirt.

“We must cross the road to reach Angela. Do not look at them.” Hanzo demanded. Jesse licked his dry lips. 

“What do we do when we get t’ her apartment?” He muttered.

“There is an alleyway behind it with fire escapes.” Hanzo replied. He was glancing periodically at the group, analysing the situation silently. Jesse risked another peek. They were about ten metres away, still waiting. Aside from the tall one, there was a lean, hunched man with a leather jacket, a woman (clearly barely in her twenties) who was looking strangely dejected, and one more short figure facing away from him. Was that woman the one Hanzo had accidentally wooed? She certainly had a doe-eyed look of longing on her face.

“Walk briskly.” Hanzo hissed. Jesse jumped a little, and kicked into motion. Every crunching step sounded like an avalanche of sound. His eyes were sliding sideways - just one look -

The tallest man turned around. Golden eyes locked with Jesse’s. For a single, intense moment, the two were expressionless. Then Jesse saw the werewolf’s nose twitch. His gaunt face contorted into a cruel smile.

“They came!” He snarled. Shit! Jesse felt a pool of adrenaline rush into his veins. Then he felt himself being shoved by Hanzo.

“Get Angela.” Hanzo snapped. Jesse didn’t have to be told twice. He was off like a wild bronco, feet slamming into the snow with every step. He risked a glance back and nearly balked at the sight of the four figures approaching Hanzo, who stood silently, unwavering. A rock confronting the wild gale.

Jesse shook the image from his mind and forced his muscles to increase their pace. He was at the alleyway - skidding around the corner - nearly colliding with a pile of trash bags. Sure enough, the apartment’s side was covered in metal fire escapes, snaking their way up like a complicated maze. There was also a slimy looking woman - no older than him - leaning against the brick wall, hands jammed into tattered pockets. Her yellow eyes narrowed as they evaluated Jesse.

“Yer with that shithole.” She snarled. Before Jesse could react, she launched herself at him. 

_Sometimes you have to shoot from the hip._

Jesse shoved her off with a grunt, and felt sharp nails drag themselves across his cheek. The woman growled and lunged at him again, sharp teeth revealing themselves under red lips. He stumbled back, heel hitting the wall behind him.

_Don’t think, Jesse. Just do._

Her voice, so close, whispering on the edges of his memory…

His first punch connected with her jaw - he’d been aiming for her nose, but he’d take what he could get. She seemed to deflate, crumpling to the ground. He shook his fist, swore under his breath, then gently propped her up against the alley wall.

“Sorry, sweetcheeks.” He grunted. He glanced at his bruised hand, then at the metal labyrinth ahead of him. He hauled himself onto the first metal ladder, and swore as his shin slammed into a rung.

“Jesse!” He glanced up. Above him, a window had been pulled open and Angela’s worried face was poking out.

“It’s safe to come down, Angela - but hurry, Hanzo’s down shit creek!” He called back. Angela’s head disappeared, and a moment later was replaced by the face of someone Jesse didn’t recognise. A teenager with long dreads was squeezing himself through the window, ladder ringing as he landed heavily on a rung.

“Be quick, kid!” Jesse called up. He glanced behind him. He couldn’t hear anything over the whistling gale, but every muscle in his body was telling him to go help Hanzo.

“Holy crap, did you kill her?!” The kid landed with a thump, looking at Jesse in awe.

“No, ‘course I didn’t!” Jesse replied, slightly confused by the kid’s enthusiasm. He was wearing fittingly glaring clothes; a green top with a frog on it, purple headphones resting on his neck and painfully bright nikes.

“Get out of here, kid.” He demanded. He glanced up to see Angela quickly making her way down the ladder.

“What’s happening? Who’s that girl? Am I in trouble again?” The kid’s voice was getting faster, and Jesse realised he could be well on the way to a panic attack.

“It’s alright. You ain’t in trouble. But you gotta go with Doctor Ziegler somewhere safe.” Jesse repeated. Angela dropped to the snowy concrete lightly, and immediately grabbed the kid’s hand.

“Thank you, Jesse. Now, Lúcio, he’s right. It would be safest if you came with me.” Angela said firmly. Lúcio looked bewildered, but obediently followed Angela as she ran out of the alleyway. Jesse watched them go for a moment, then a heavy wave of anxiety landed in his stomach. Hanzo was still with the pack. 

He nearly fell over in his haste to run back. He scrambled around the corner as fast as he could, narrowly avoiding slamming his face into the wall, and raced back around to the other side of the building. The snow had picked up and he had to squint to see anything. Street lamp, parked car - there - a figure standing over a body. Jesse felt bile rising in his throat. 

“Hanzo!” He yelled. The figure turned around. 

“Jesse?” He nearly cried in relief at the familiar voice.

“No, don’t come any closer -” Hanzo’s voice was cut off by another figure in the snow. Jesse’s step faltered.

“You.” A voice behind him made him jump. Jesse whirled around and found himself face to face with the soulless golden eyes of the tallest man, barely a metre away. He could nearly taste the stench of smoke and gravel that rolled off him in a suffocating wave, buffeted straight towards him by the stinging wind.

“So you’re the sick fuck that thinks you can jus’ attack people for no reason, huh?” Jesse snarled. He could feel hot anger tingling under his skin.

“I think I got reason enough.” The man snapped back. He then cast an appraising eye over Jesse, and leaned back a little.

“I turned ya, didn’t I?” He grated out a laugh. “Normally, I’d hafta invite you to my pack -” he glared at Jesse - “ but what your little friend did to my girl makes me wanna cut you up instead.”

Jesse couldn’t breathe. His muscles locked up like a startled deer. All he could do was stand there and pray to god that by some miracle, this was just a dream. It felt a little like a dream - just them, surrounded by the impenetrable storm, cut off from reality. The man pulled out a pocket knife and spun it lazily around his finger.

“Bet yer pals at the cafe haven’t told you what really goes on in our little monster underworld.” He rasped. “It’s dog-eat-dog out here. If the police don’t getcha, fear does. An’ if by some miracle you don’t slit yer own neck, We’ll do it for ya.” Another elongated laugh.

Jesse begged his legs to move. He’d faced death down the barrel of a gun before. Why couldn’t he do it now? He knew why. If he moved, if he flinched - then he’d be in reality again. And in reality Hanzo might be dead.

A hand grabbed his.

The feeling was so sudden that Jesse nearly screamed. He was being pulled, away from the knife, away from the snarling rage that was shouting obscenities and thundering after them. 

“I’ll kill you! I’ll kill all of you!” 

His legs were working again, carrying him down street after street after street after

* * *

“Jesse.” A voice was talking to him. Jesse didn’t look up, couldn’t look up. He was sitting in a wooden chair, staring at his bouncing knee with wide eyes. Blood was rushing through his veins, muffling all other senses.

“Jesse. It is alright now. You are experiencing shock. Please look at me.” A hand guided his chin up. He looked up and saw two brown eyes watching him. For a second, golden eyes flashed at him. He flinched back, knuckles white on the chair.

“Jesse, you are safe now.” The voice was soothing, like the hand that was slowly rubbing his shoulder. Slowly his breathing slowed and he glanced back up. Hanzo was in front of him, blood dripping from his nose.

“Darlin’… You’re okay.” Jesse felt tears welling in his eyes.

“I’m okay.” Hanzo repeated. Jesse could feel his hands trembling.

“I thought you were hurt, Han, I thought you were hurt real bad, n’ I couldnt-”

“Jesse, focus on me. Focus on my breathing.” Hanzo’s voice was firm, guiding Jesse down a tumultuous river. He nodded quickly, and fervently concentrated on Hanzo’s steady breath, Slowly, oh so slowly, his hands stopped trembling, his mind cleared. His mind stopped racing for long enough for him to reflect that really, he’d become quite attached to Hanzo. The tears, however, refused to cease.

“You scared me real good out there, Han.” Jesse sniffled. He accepted a tissue from Hanzo gratefully, mopping his wet cheeks with it until it was little more than a saturated scrap.

“Y’ got a little bit of, uh, stuff on your face too.” He mumbled, gesturing to Hanzo’s profuse nosebleed. Hanzo looked at him with puzzled eyes, and reached up to touch his face. His fingers coming away red made his eyebrows rise slightly.

“So I do.” He murmured. His eyes were glassy. Jesse glanced at the mushy remains of a tissue in his hand.

“This ain’t… We still aren’t safe, huh.” He mumbled. Hanzo didn’t reply.

“An’ nobody we know is, either.”

* * *

They slept that night together in Hanzo’s bed. Their bodies were pressed close together, spooning each other, fingers intertwined - Jesse felt like if he stopped touching Hanzo for a single second, he’d disappear. Hanzo, too, seemed unwilling to let go of Jesse’s hand.

“We can’t keep doin’ this.” Jesse said quietly. He noticed Hanzo tense up a little. 

“Are you referring to this relationship?” His voice was quiet and hesitant. 

“No! No, I don’t mean that. This whole thing. Them. You could’ve been, you know - it could’ve gone a whole lot worse.” Jesse replied.

“They are only concerned with me. Perhaps if I returned to Japan for a month, they would stop disturbing you and the others.” Hanzo’s cool voice made a lump form in Jesse’s throat. 

“I’d miss ya, darling.”

“I feel that it is necessary given the circumstances.”

“What about-” Jesse hesitated. “What about going down south?”

“Where do you refer to?”

“Y’know, where I’m from. Good old New Mexico. I’ve got old friends down there. I reckon all you’ve got back home is bad memories, darling. We could - we could go together.” He stammered quietly. 

Hanzo didn’t reply for a long while.

“Allow me time to consider.” He finally murmured. Jesse bit his dry lip and held onto Hanzo’s comforting form a little tighter.

“Although I admit - were I to journey to Japan, I would also miss you.”

“Well, we’re both here right now. An’ that’s what matters.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaaaa, my poor boys ;0;
> 
> But boy, what a chapter! New characters and all! Thank you again to all my lovely readers - it makes me so happy to know that my writing brings you joy!
> 
> For bonus Sad Feels, read that last bit and listen to El Mañana by Gorillaz - I was just playing it on repeat while I wrote, which is probably why it feels so angsty ;u;


	12. Cigarettes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! This chapter contains mature topics that some may find disturbing.

The next morning was calm - almost jarringly so. Jesse felt like he should be panicking, or checking over his shoulder every few minutes, but in reality he was too tired to do much more than mull over the events slowly. He woke up and forced his heavy eyelids open with a soft grunt. Beside him, the bedsheets slowly rose and fell to the rhythm of Hanzo’s silent breathing. His long black hair had come loose of the golden ribbon. Jesse marvelled at the silken texture on his cheek for a moment, then swatted off the black lock when it tickled his nose.

“Morning, Han.” He murmured. He extracted himself from the bed as gently as he could. Hanzo’s bedroom was darkly lit and painted a pleasant beige, almost bare save for the navy blue bed. As soon as Jesse was free from the warm cocoon, he trundled to the kitchen. He glanced down at himself and started a little; inky bloodstains had blossomed all over his shirt. He tentatively touched the dried, stiff fabric, then reflected on its cause. Of course, the fight. His mind mutedly recalled sharp nails sinking into his flesh and gashing his arm. He dimly wondered whether that was going to be nightmare material later on. 

“Food.” He mumbled to himself. That’s what he and Hanzo needed right now - a meal, southern American sized. He immediately set to work rifling through Hanzo’s sparse ingredients. It quickly hit him how healthy Hanzo must be; rice, fish and vegetables stocked his cupboards, and the only packaged things Jesse could find were sauces and a few suspicious cans with Japanese writing on it.

Eventually he cobbled together a meal of eggs, dubiously outdated bacon and the most aggressively wholegrain bread he’d ever seen. The golden yolks shone in the morning light as he made a mess of getting them in a pan. As he was waiting for the eggs and bacon to cook, his curiousity got the better of him and he grabbed one of the suspicious cans. Small white things were proudly presented on the side. Slowly, he cracked open the lid, and stared curiously at the weird orbs inside.

“Good morning.” Hanzo’s voice made Jesse jump. The white vegetables (?) sloshed worryingly in their can. He looked at the tin sheepishly.

“Mornin’, darling.” He put the can down on the counter. “Eggs n’ bacon will be ready soon.”

Hanzo glanced at the can. “I did not think lychee would go with eggs.”

He then saw Jesse’s pink cheeks, the Japanese writing, and paused. He seemed to have a moment of clarity. Then - it started as a rumbling, then became a chuckle, Hanzo’s stern eyebrows softened as he smiled. His face was framed beautifully by his hair, swept to one side, and Jesse found himself feeling warm inside. He started to laugh too, and the two stood there chuckling until Jesse’s nose picked up the smell of burning.

“Shit!” He dived for the eggs, scooping the pan off the heat and staring woefully at the blackened edges of each egg. Hanzo helped him save the bacon, and the two doled out the slightly charred meal onto plates. Hanzo emptied the lychees (whatever they were) into a bowl, and the two settled themselves at his table. As soon as the conversation fell away, the atmosphere soured until an uncomfortable silence hung over them. Eventually, Jesse had to fill the empty space with something.

“Yesterday wasn’t too great, huh.” He mumbled through a mouthful of egg. Hanzo looked at the sight disdainfully, then sighed.

“No. It was not. I - I do not feel safe anymore.” Hanzo replied. This made Jesse look up in surprise. It felt weirdly unnatural for Hanzo to bare his feelings so openly. Jesse shuffled the bacon around on his plate.

“I don’t want anything like that to happen again.” He said after a pause. Hanzo didn’t respond. His food remained untouched. 

“What can we do?” Hanzo’s voice was quiet. Inky hair obscured his eyes but Jesse knew they were watching him. 

“I don’t know.”

“The cafe may be in danger.”

“Ain’t nothing we can really do at the moment, darlin’. We’ve just got to trust Winston, Lena and Reinhardt to keep themselves safe.” Jesse replied. He popped a lychee into his mouth, balked slightly at the unexpectedly sweet taste, swallowed and stood up.

“Here’s a plan. I’ll call up Lena and we tell her about what happened.” Jesse suggested. He patted his pockets, frowned, and glanced around. “You got a home phone?” 

Hanzo nodded. “In the bedroom.”

Jesse nodded, and started to walk towards the doorway.

“Wait.” Hanzo’s voice broke slightly. Jesse turned to see the terrified flash in Hanzo’s eyes, his white knuckles gripping the table. “Please - don’t leave me alone.”

Jesse was back in an instant, shuffling his chair close to Hanzo’s and holding his hand tightly. Hanzo’s eyes were staring at a spot on the table, his breathing clearly trying to keep itself even.

“It’s alright, I’m here. Ain’t nothin’ gonna get you while I’m around. Here, look at me. It’s going to be okay. It isn’t okay right now, and I know you’re scared cause I’m scared too, but we’ll get through it.” Jesse murmured. Hanzo’s eyes glistened. That ancient tree was breaking apart, bark splintering and leaves withering before his eyes. Or maybe it had always been like this, and only now the facade had fallen.

* * *

The cafe was quiet. Aside from the ever-present murmur of the customers, and the low rumble of vehicles outside, an oppressive silence gripped its claws into the atmosphere behind the counter. This was killing Jesse’s extroverted nature, and it was clearly disturbing Lena too. After the cafe closed its door, and even the hum of the customers left the hollow room, the two were left drying dishes in uncomfortable silence. Jesse picked up another warm, white cup from the sleek dishwasher, and straightened his back to look at Lena.

“Lena - you handlin’ this alright?” He asked tentatively. Lena flashed him a smile, but it quickly dropped into a malcontented grimace. She looked down and her face became obscured in shadow. The clinical white light flickered overhead.

“I’m not gonna josh with you, love - it’s been a lot to take in.” She replied. Her feverishly fast tea towel increased in pace as it circled a plate.

“It’s all a bit unreal, you know? Death threats! It barely sounds true, right?” A forced laugh.

“But it is, and there isn’t anybody to help us. Usually, we are the help. Can’t count the number of poor sods who come off the street all banged up, looking for help. We send them off to Angela, or we patch them up here, but there’s only so much we can do. The bobbies don’t want anything to do with us.” She said forlornly.

“So to have ourselves threatened… I don’t really know how to feel. I guess we should have expected it, really. I suppose if it gets any worse, Winston will close up shop for a while. See if it tides over. But, you know, if it keeps on going…” She paused. “Well, they’re not after the cafe, are they. They’re after Hanzo. Winston might, you know - ask him to leave.”

Lena’s words hit Jesse like a punch to the gut. He gripped his damp tea towel so tightly that rivulets of water trailed down his fist. 

“Winston wouldn’t do that, would he?” Jesse tried to sound aggressive. He failed impressively. Lena refused to catch Jesse’s fervent eyes.

“We all want him to stay, love. But you’ve got to admit, he’d probably be safer somewhere else.” 

“Where in hell would he be safer?!”

“How about Japan?” Lena shot back.

“You think he wouldn’t go back if he goddamn could?” Jesse’s voice was climbing in volume, thick with contempt and anger. “He’s our friend! We shouldn’t be shipping him off across the world to protect him!”

“What else are we going to do?”

“Stand by him here!” Jesse could hear the anger in his voice. 

“Is it such a sin to want to be safe?” Lena snapped. “Some of us don’t just have ourselves to think about, either.” 

Jesse snarled. He looked at Lena with furious eyes -

“Stop it!” A voice from behind them made the two jump. Jesse turned around and saw Hanzo standing in the doorway. Dark circles were etched under his puffy eyes, and it was clear that he’d been crying. Another shriveled leaf, fallen to the earth.

“Stop it.” His voice was impossibly sad - and even more tired. “I am not worth your bickering.” 

“Han-” Jesse reached out to him, but he had already turned on his heel. Lena and Jesse stood in silence, listening to his light - but clearly running - footsteps. Jesse glanced at Lena, who looked slightly shocked, and on the verge of tears herself.

“I’m sorry, Lena. I didn’t mean none of that.”

“Say that again when I’m not pissed off at ya.” Lena grumbled, wiping her dewy eyes. She waved her floppy tea towel in the direction of the door. “Go on, talk to him. I just need a minute.”

Jesse sent her an apologetic look, then hurried out the door. His too-long hair swung in front of his face, his too-old shirt shifted and pulled, his too-hurt heart beat with every step.. He was running for his life. 

“Hanzo!” His silhouette was faint against the outside darkness, standing in the doorframe of the cafe’s entrance. He didn’t turn around at the sound of Jesse’s voice.

“Hanzo, we didn’t mean to upset you. We weren’t havin’ a real standoff or anything. An’ darling, you’re worth so much more than you think. Damn, I know it ain’t easy to love - or even like yourself, but I think you’re worth something. A whole lotta something… Hanzo, you listening to me?” Jesse frowned. Hanzo hadn’t moved an inch. He took a tentative step towards him, but faltered as Hanzo’s shoulders hunched.

“I… I didn’t want this…” He croaked. Jesse placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“Darlin’-” He started, then noticed that Hanzo’s face had an expression of pure horror. He was staring at the ground like he’d seen a ghost. Jesse’s eyes slowly trailed down.

“Oh… Oh, fuck.” He could barely speak. On the front step of the cafe, covered in red-stained snow, was the swooning werewolf girl. Vicious gashes covered her body, clearly an animal’s bite marks. No, no, this couldn’t be happening.

“Shit!” Jesse dropped to his knees, cradling the girl’s head. Her glassy eyes stared up at him. He felt a wave of revulsion and nausea rise in him. His most primal instincts were telling him to run. This horrific stench of death was almost too much to bear. It stirred deep, dark, memories.

“This is my fault…” Hanzo dropped to his knees behind him. “ _Gomen'nasai._ ”

“Lena! God, Lena! Call an ambulance!” Jesse was yelling, but his voice felt far away. There was a feeling of slightly peaceful disconnect from the world around him. Surely, this couldn’t be happening. It was too incredible, too impossible. The only thing anchoring him to reality was the insidious scent of death, and the knowledge of Hanzo behind him. He was barely making a sound.

“Hanzo, Hanzo, this ain’t yer fault, ain’t none o’ this any ‘f yer doin’ -” His voice was becoming slurred, but there was nothing he could do. He felt like he was made of torn cotton fluff. His mind was swirling with thoughts he couldn’t solidify, couldn’t focus on at all.

He stared down at the girl cradled in his arms.

Empty eyes stared back.

* * *

Six cigarettes. Jesse had been keeping count. And that was only today. He’d smoked twenty yesterday, during the police interviews. He stared at a spot on the wall, letting the nicotine make his mind grow fuzzy. He could feel the weight of the next packet in his jacket pocket. What a filthy habit. He crushed the cigarette into the ashtray, and lit another.

“Bit of a shitshow, isn’t it.” Lena’s voice surprised him, and he glanced up from his seat in the staff room.

“You’re not supposed to smoke back here.” She said absently. She looked twitchy, glancing around uncomfortably. Yesterday had given Jesse the notion that she was not particularly fond of policemen.

“I’m not… I’m not going to be around here as much, love. Not for a little while.” She murmured, picking at the sofa’s armrest. Jesse inhaled deeply, and let out a smoky breath. The door opened, and they both looked up to see Winston enter the room. His brow was firmly knitted together. He didn’t even seem to notice the cigarette hanging from Jesse’s lips.

“Hello, Lena. Jesse.” Even Winston’s infallible vigour was strained. “I came in to tell you… I’ve decided to close the Cafe Gibraltar temporarily. It’s simply not safe to continue operating currently.” He sounded so damn technical. It made Jesse feel vaguely angered.

“I’m happy to give you both paid leave, so please don’t be concerned about that. But, ah. I’m going to have to seriously consider Hanzo’s place as an employee.” He glanced away from them. Jesse faintly realised that was the first time he’d ever seen Winston break his stony eye contact when talking.

“I’m sure you both understand.” Winston continued. Lena said something, but Jesse wasn’t really listening. After a moment deep in thought, he stood up. The suddenness of this action caught Winston off guard, and he looked at Jesse with raised eyebrows.

“Doctor Winston - how’s this. Hanzo and me are gonna go well away from here. Down south. Where I’m from. Just until this goes away.” _If it goes away._ That little aching voice. “Then you won’t need to fire Hanzo or nothin’.” He said, gesturing somewhat frantically. Winston looked at him doubtfully.

“Ah… Alright. Please talk to me in my office before you leave.” He said in his perfunctory voice. 

Whatever else was said was missed by Jesse. His mind was rolling over and over again. He couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing Hanzo at the cafe every day. He had to go south with him.

He had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;O;
> 
> I'm so sorry for putting my sweet boys through all this ;u; 
> 
> Gomen'nasai = sorry
> 
> Again, thank you all so much for your kind comments. It always makes my day to hear that you're excited for the next chapter! <3


	13. Pink Skies

There had been no discussion about it. It had just happened naturally that both Jesse and Hanzo had gone together to Jesse’s apartment, and Jesse had made them a somewhat sad dinner of ramen. Hanzo had eaten, much to his relief. Now, as they lay in bed, Hanzo facing away from him, Jesse struggled to find the words to speak. As he breathed he felt the scratching in his throat left by the cigarettes. It made him crave another.

“Darling.” He began. Hanzo was silent.

“We should go away for a while. Lena’s willing to let us use her car. We’ll go down somewhere nobody can find us, and get away from it all.” He continued. “We can’t - we can’t stay here, Han. You know that.” 

There was no response from the darkness. Instead Jesse heard shuffling and felt the blankets shifting. He smiled slightly when he felt Hanzo’s warm hand grip his. Their foreheads were almost touching. 

“You do not have to be so kind to me.” Hanzo muttered. Jesse chuckled.

“Says the man sharin’ a bed with me.” He said. “I care for you a lot, Han. ‘Course I’m gonna be kind.”

Hanzo made an ever so slight huffing noise. “You are foolish.”

Jesse held onto Hanzo tighter. “If I’m a fool for lovin’ you, then I don’t mind being one. Best get some sleep, now. We have an early start tomorrow.”

* * *

The morning came far too soon. Jesse woke up slowly, blinking open his tired eyes. He’d woken up before his alarm and the room was washed in dark faded blue. He yawned - then the anxiety hit him. Every memory of the past two days hit him like a truck and he went rigid, feeling his heart go cold in dread. No, no, there was no time for this. He swung himself out of bed and forced himself to get dressed, doing so almost mechanically. He couldn’t stop. Then he’d start thinking. Hanzo shifted in the bed.

“ _Tasukete… hottoite..._ ” He mumbled, eyes still closed. Jesse smiled slightly and gently gave Hanzo a peck on the forehead. Then he glanced out the dark window (he could still see the moon) and opened his cupboard, careful to not make a sound. He was a terrible packer, so the sooner he started, the more time he’d have to double check he had everything.

“Jeans, shirts, socks…” He mumbled a list to himself. He reached out to pull a shirt off its hanger, but a large box at the bottom of his cupboard caught his eye. He knelt down and gently picked it up, balancing it on his lap. There was a picture frame face-down on it. He picked it up, and bit his lip. His and Lucas’ face stared up at him. A glance at Hanzo, a quiet sigh, and he put the picture in a dark crevice between two other boxes. He looked back at the box on his lap and gently pulled off the lid. He couldn’t help but smile at what he saw within.

“Haven’t seen you in a while.” He murmured, pulling out his old cowboy hat. It was dirty beige, with a few dents in its brim, and a black stripe with a golden emblem at the front. Just the feeling of the rough fabric in his hands filled him with nostalgia. He placed it on his head and grinned. It still fit perfectly.

“Jesse..” Hanzo’s worried voice made Jesse turn around. Hanzo was sitting up with a fearful look on his face, staring down at the bedsheets he was clutching.

“Bad dream?” Jesse was immediately by his side.

“Yes… It was about the fight. But I am alright now.” Hanzo’s eyes glanced up at Jesse’s face. His eyes went blank, then crinkled in confusion.

“What is on your head?” 

“What does it look like? It’s a hat.”

“But we are inside.” Hanzo was still looking at him blearily. Jesse chuckled and touched his hat’s rim.

“I’m just goin’ through my stuff. You know, digging out what I’ll pack. Got a lot of memories in that there cupboard.” He said. Hanzo shuffled himself into a sitting position and glanced at the many boxes in Jesse’s cupboard. 

“Got a whole life in there.” Jesse mumbled. He pulled out his phone to glance at the time. The background was the grand canyon, a fact which he now found quite humorous. They should stop by there on the way.

“Is that a memory too?” Hanzo’s voice was abrupt. 

“Is what a memory?”

“That eye.” Hanzo said. Jessed turned his phone over and ran a finger over the eye carefully painted on the back. 

“Yeah. An old friend drew that. Her name was Ana. She right raised me when I was a no-good teenager, gettin’ into trouble with gangs and the law left n’ right. In fact,” he glanced away with a wistful expression,”she might just still be back home. You’d love her, you know. No way in hell she’d fall for you - Ana didn’t love nothin’ except hard vodka, and her daughter.” 

“Do you know her daughter?” Hanzo asked. Jesse’s eyes flickered to him, then glanced away again.

“Yeah. Fareeha’s about the same age as me. But, ah. Enough of the past.” He jammed his phone into his pocket forcefully. He extended a hand and Hanzo gripped it firmly, pulling himself out of bed.

“How about I make us some breakfast?”

“No, let us do it together.”

“Whatever you say, darling.”

* * *

“Here, let me get that.” Jesse picked up the hefty suitcase with a grunt. The weather had cleared, and almost-warm sunlight shone down from above him. The boot of Lena’s tan Ford Cortina was popped open and he was nearing the end of piling Hanzo’s suitcases into it. Hanzo stood near to him, leaning against the side of the car. He was poring over a gigantic map, trying to make sense of the convoluted twists and turns (It had been Jesse’s idea to use a physical map - “Gives a sense of authenticity”, he’d argued). A pair of sunglasses obscured his eyes and his tight top did an excellent job of showing off his muscles. Despite the glasses, Jesse got the sense that he was being watched as he admired Hanzo’s figure and blushed slightly. 

“Hello, Jesse.” A familiar feminine voice made Jesse turn around. Lena stood a few metres away, a small box in her arms and a sad smile on her face. 

“Lena. I’m sorry about the other day-” Jesse began, but Lena cut him off.

“Love, I know you are. I was stressed and tired then, and so were you. No hard feelings.” She replied. She glanced down at the white box she was holding. “I’m going to miss you two. I know you’re coming back soon, but I got used to seeing you every day, you know? But don’t worry, I’ll text you lots.” She quickly added. 

“Are you and Emily going to be alright?” Hanzo asked. Lena shrugged.

“It’s all a bit mad at home. Emily wants to go away for a while and I thought I did too - but I just can’t leave everyone else here. I can’t stand the thought of Reinhardt here alone.” She said forlornly. “And Angela’s refusing to even stop taking patients, silly blighter. I feel like I can’t abandon them, you know?” Tears were beginning to well in her shining eyes.

“Lena, you’re not abandoning anybody.” Jesse said firmly. He gripped her tiny figure into a hug, holding her as she shook slightly. After a quiet moment, he let go and she wiped a tear from her cheek. She pushed the small box into Jesse’s hands.

“This is from Reinhardt and me. It’s for both of you.” She said with a sniffle. Before Jesse could reply, Lena ran to Hanzo. She flung her arms around him and hugged him fiercely, not noticing the slight shocked look that ghosted over his face, quickly replaced by a surprised smile.

“We will be back soon, Lena. Please do not worry about us.” He said. Her hugged her back with a soft smile. She sniffled again, then finally withdrew from the hug.

“I’ll see you soon, loves. Take care of yourselves.” She said. She left as quickly as she came, leaving Jesse wondering at the depth of the powers she possessed. He glanced at Hanzo and gestured to the box.

“Let’s save it until tonight.” Hanzo responded. Jesse nodded and deposited it in the trunk. Jesse slammed the boot with a thunk and quickly joined Hanzo. He leant on the car next to him and slung an arm around his shoulder.

“Time to get moving.” He said.

“I know.” hanzo replied. His arms were crossed tightly and he was staring up at his apartment building, making Jesse wonder what he was thinking.

“It’s - it’s going to be okay, Han.” Jesse said in his best reassuring voice. Hanzo nodded, his stray lock of hair bobbing like a crow’s tail. 

_Clunk!_

Jesse slammed the car door behind him. His hands gripped the leather steering wheel. The sun had risen a bit more in the stonewashed blue sky, and the brim of his hat cast a long shadow across his face.

“The beginning of running away.” Hanzo murmured. Jesse shook his head.

“The start of an adventure.”

* * *

Pink sky stretched out above them. On either side of the car, endless miles of green rolled towards the horizon. The purr of the engine was muffled by the sound of the crackling radio, singing old songs that reminded Jesse of home. His head nodded from side to side with the rhythm. Hanzo glanced at him from his position leant against the car door, clearly amused. His eyes were etched with bags underneath, but he didn’t seem to be depressed - or at least wasn’t showing it. Jesse grinned and began to sing.

_“Life could be a dream_  
_If I could take you up in paradise up above_  
_If you would tell me I'm the only one that you love_  
_Life could be a dream, sweetheart”_

He winked at Hanzo, who snorted. The sunglasses were gone from his face, now sitting neatly on top of the glove box. Jesse was very thankful for this, as he could see every bit of happiness in Hanzo’s eyes. 

“How’s the cutest man in Canada doing, darlin’?” Jesse asked.

“I don’t know, Jesse. How are you?” Hanzo responded. Jesse blushed and coughed to cover up the strangled sound that came from his throat.

“Fine.” Jesse said, his voice cracking slightly. “Well, we ain’t gonna be in Canada much longer. I’d say we’re maybe two hours from the border.” He glanced at the quickly fading sky. The puffy clouds were stained in peach and rose.

“Perhaps we should find somewhere to stay the night.” Hanzo suggested. Jesse raised an eyebrow. 

“I don’t think there’s a town for miles. Maybe I should’ve thought about this when I was plannin’ our route this morning.” He mumbled. Hanzo let out an exasperated sigh.

“You are sometimes almost insufferable.” He muttered. He popped open the glove box and pulled out the absurdly large map. After a moment staring at the incomprehensible squiggles, he folded it back up and sighed.

“We are in the middle of nowhere.” He said.

“Well, we’ve got a car to keep us warm n’ dry. Plus we’ll have a mighty fine view of the stars.” Jesse replied. “And I didn’t remember to book motels, but I did bring snacks.”

Hanzo’s annoyed expression softened. He glanced out the passenger window at the sky. The first star was out. 

“I used to wish on the first star every night.” Hanzo mused quietly. “Genji and I would sit together, and watch it come up. It was the only time of day he would sit down patiently.” 

Jesse glanced at him. “What did you wish?”

“My father was… Overbearing. He was,” Hanzo paused, “well, he had a strict idea of what he wanted us to be like. Genji was very different. He wasn’t an incubus, he didn’t respect tradition, all he wanted to do was to be free to do what he liked. So every night, I would wish for him to be free. Looking back on it, it was foolish - how could he be free? We were only children.” Hanzo’s voice was tinged with sadness.

“You sound like a pretty good brother.” Jesse replied. Hanzo looked away.

“I cannot claim to be so.” He muttered. “I wished for him to be free, then I followed my father’s orders like a dog. I urged him to do the same. I was a terrible brother. I am certain that I contributed to his decision to go to Nepal.” 

Jesse frowned. He gently slowed the car and it ground to a halt on the side of the road, next to a field of swaying grass. The sky had faded to a soft purple.

“Han. That sort of thinkin’ doesn’t help anything.” He shifted himself to face Hanzo, and reached out to hold his hand, but Hanzo withdrew from the gesture.

“It is the truth. I was the cause of his death, and now I am the cause of another.” Hanzo said bitterly.

“Stop that.” Jesse said with a frown. “Stop blaming yourself, Han.”

“You do not understand.” Hanzo snapped.

“I understand perfectly! You’re grieving, Hanzo. You’re not the only person to ever grieve.” Jesse tried to keep his voice level but there was no stopping the annoyance that coursed in the undercurrent of his words. 

“You’re not just hurting yourself with that kind of talk. What the hell would Genji think of you beating yourself up like this? Sounds like he’d want you to be happy, not destroying yourself from the inside out! What the hell do you think _I_ feel like?” He cried. Hanzo’s eyes widened. “You think this isn’t hurting me?! You’re so goddamn selfish sometimes.” Jesse hadn’t noticed before, but tears were rolling down his cheeks. 

“I’m - I’m sorry, Jesse. I didn’t know you felt that way. I - I am being selfish acting this way.” Hanzo stammered. Jesse took a deep breath, and rubbed his wet eyes with the palm of his hand.

“Naw, y’aint selfish. I didn’t really mean that.” Jesse took another ragged breath. Tears were dripping down Hanzo’s face now, and he brushed them away with his thumb.

“I just want you to be happy, Hanzo. And it really hurts when you aren’t.” He murmured. Hanzo nodded and reached out to hold Jesse’s hand.

“You are what makes me happy.” Hanzo replied. “And I’m sorry for not listening to you.”

Jesse nodded slightly, leaning his head on Hanzo’s shoulder. “I care about you, darling. I don’t want to ever see you sad.” Jesse found his chin being lifted up, and his lips being locked into a kiss. He kissed right back, mellow and slow and emotional. Strong hands held him close, caressed his back, calmed his frayed nerves. The radio crackled softly, crooning romantic songs. The stars shone above them. Jesse had never felt more in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I nearly cried writing this chapter ;u; I hope you enjoyed it! I hope you're not too miffed that the plots kind of gone out the window from wolf-pack-confrontation to sappy-road-trip - right now I'm just kind of writing what feels right to me. So I hope this meets your expectations! As always, your kudos and comments are very appreciated. I read and love every comment I get! <3
> 
> (and yeah, that 'hows the most beautiful person?' 'i don't know, how are you?' bit is stolen from tumblr :P It was so good I couldn't resist! unfortunately I can't find the original post...)
> 
> Tasukete: Please help me  
> Hottoite: Leave me alone


	14. Dakota Diner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take note - this chapter contains references to past homophobia.

Jesse had forgotten just how brown America was. The endless grey and white of Canada had become normal, expected, even comforting. Now, as he glanced around at the dry earth, he could taste the nostalgia on his tongue. Unhappy - but thankfully long past painful - memories rose from their slumber as he watched the road in front of him. Endless shades of dun and tawny beige were dappled across fallow fields. A nearly empty sky was marked with streaky clouds, almost looking like car tyre prints carving from horizon to horizon. North Dakota sure was lonely. 

“Jesse.” Hanzo murmured. He was sitting idly, a book lying on his lap. The window by his shoulder was down just a crack. Jesse’s was down all the way and his arm was leaning on the side, relishing the wind.

“Yes, darlin’?”

“This is very boring.” Hanzo muttered. Jesse shrugged.

“You got a book, dont’cha?”

“I have finished it. Twice. Are you not bored by this?”

“No. Nothing more soothing than this. Hm.” Jesse whistled. He still had not torn his eyes from the road but he was sure that Hanzo was scowling at him. “Alright. Let’s play a game. We each get turns asking the other a question, and they have to answer truthfully,”

Hanzo considered this for a moment. 

“Fine. What is your highest formal education?” He asked. Jesse raised his eyebrows. 

“Well, uh. I was mighty rebellious back then. School didn’t, ah, suit my needs.” He picked his words carefully. This didn’t stop Hanzo from staring at him in surprise.

“You never went to school?” He breathed. Jesse reddened.

“I got plenty of education!” He replied defensively. “Ana taught me what she called the four R’s: ‘rithmetic, reading, rifles and riding. More useful than any of that trigonometry and geography crap they teach you in school. Now, it’s my turn. Huh… Favourite book?”

 _“The Setting Sun.”_ Hanzo replied shortly. “My turn. You said yesterday you got in trouble with a gang.” 

“That’s got to be cheatin’.” Jesse grumbled. “Alright. You’re probably not gonna believe this either, but I was in a gang once.” His chest puffed slightly in misplaced pride. He couldn’t help but grin at Hanzo’s disbelieving face.

“That’s right, I was a doggone hooligan. Best marksman in the Deadlock gang, even as a teenager. It was pretty serious - the head honchos were always getting into gunfights. And don’t tell nobody, but I was in a bank heist once.” He said with a devious smile. He chose to omit the face that he was just the lookout on that particular mission. Hanzo’s face was of complete disbelief and awe. 

“You never cease to amaze me.” He said with raised eyebrows. “How did you end up in Canada?” 

Jesse winked. “Ah-ah, my turn now. You ever had a boyfriend or anything before me?”

Hanzo pursed his lips. “Once. He was just the son of one of my father’s men, who would wander the hallways of our family castle.” Hanzo’s casual use of the term ‘castle’ made Jesse wonder what his childhood was truly like. “We were both young and innocent. We didn’t understand romance, not truly. But… It was nice, having someone to talk to. Then his father found out, and I never saw him again.” Hanzo’s voice was laced with sadness. Jesse bit his lip.

“Damn, I’m sorry.” He said. 

“It is what it is. Now, it is my turn. Must you wear that hat inside the car?”

* * *

It took another three hours before Hanzo broke completely. He had become more and more cold with every passing minute, to the point that he had completely stopped responding to Jesse’s attempts at conversation. By the time Jesse swung off the highway to enter a small town called Huntington for lunch, Hanzo looked ready to explode.

“America is too flat.” He muttered. “There is too much empty space.”

Jesse couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “You’re gonna love New Mexico, darlin’.”

He cruised the car down the main street and couldn’t help but marvel at the view. It was as if the past had been captured in a bubble; slightly rusted signs hung on antiquated storefronts, beckoning them into tyre stores and shoe shops. Dusty neon lights were turned off in the daytime but their curly writing hinted at how marvellous this street must look at night. It didn’t take long for Jesse to find a place to eat - a burger bar wedged into a corner, plated in black and white chequers, looking straight out of a postcard.

“How’s that place look?” Jesse suggested, gesturing to the quaint store. Hanzo scrutinised it suspiciously. 

“It looks… crowded.” He muttered. The tyres crunched as Jesse swung the car into a parking spot.

“Must mean they have good food! An’ it looks just like the old diner back home!” He replied decisively. He slammed the door open with vigour, excited by the very prospect of a hot meal. Breakfast had been granola bars and he was dying inside slightly. He barely waited for Hanzo to get out of the car before he was stomping over to the diner. Its chunky yellow sign proclaimed its name to be ‘SAMMY’S DINER’.

 _Ding!_ The door opened with a soft jingle. Hanzo huffed but followed Jesse inside. The two were instantly hit by a wave of delicious scents. Jesse could hear a distinct rumble from his stomach at the smells of meat and frying hanging in the air. The diner certainly was busy - a steady hum of conversation hung in the air. It reminded him of the front room of the Gibraltar. Most of the customers seemed to be older people, but a few teenagers sat together, and a couple of burly looking bikers sat around a table in the corner.

“Hi there! What can I get you?” The lady behind the counter looked almost intensely chipper. Clearly dyed blonde hair was viciously teased into a perky bob that framed a slightly chubby face. Hanzo grumbled something about ‘healthy options’. The woman’s eyes slid from Jesse to Hanzo. Jesse cringed as her cheeks went a familiar pink. Damn it, he’d forgotten! 

“Ah, can I get you gentlemen a coffee? You come from around here?” She was visibly craning her neck to look around Jesse at Hanzo, who was using him as a sort of shield against her wide eyes.

“Howdy. Naw, we’re from up north. Can we just get two bacon hamburgers and coffee?”

“What kind of coffee, hun? With sugar?” The lady winked at Hanzo, who looked visibly uncomfortable. 

“Long black. No sugar, thank you kindly.” Jesse gave her a pointed look. She smiled obliviously at him. 

“I’m going to go find a table.” Hanzo muttered, and disappeared from Jesse’s view. As soon as he’d paid the woman (and carefully avoided her questions about Hanzo), he located Hanzo sitting in a booth and slid into the seat opposite him. He planted his elbows on the table and leant forwards.

“Sorry, Han. I got too excited about bein’ back home and I forgot about your whole ladies thing.” Jesse said. Hanzo sighed.

“I will live. But next time I would appreciate a more secluded venue.” He replied. Jesse chuckled.

“Sounds fine to me.” He purred. Although he’d certainly respect Hanzo’s wishes next time around, he couldn’t help but feel happy at being in a diner. Although dark memories still hummed in the back of his mind, he focused on the pleasant ones - sunny days spent loitering at a booth, stealing leftovers, listening to the grainy music they played.

A smile crept onto Hanzo’s face and he reached out to hold Jesse’s hand over the table. 

_What’s this, Jesse? Holding hands with a boy?_

“What is it?” He only realised after Hanzo spoke that he had jerked his hand away. He stared at Hanzo. A vile memory had wormed its way to the surface. 

“Sorry, Han. I need to visit the old water closet, I’ll be right back.” He blurted out. He nearly ran to the diner’s small bathroom, and as soon as he was safely within its silent grey confines he let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He gripped onto the bathroom's sink, unable to do anything but stare at himself in the mirror. It was just a memory. Just a memory.

_What are you, gay?_

He crushed his eyes shut.

By the time he emerged from the bathroom, coffee and burgers had been delivered to their table. Hanzo was politely waiting for him to return, his food untouched, and Jesse couldn’t help but feel a little guilty.

“Sorry. Let’s tuck in.” He said with a big smile. Hanzo looked slightly skeptical but didn’t say anything, instead obediently starting to take measured bites out of the burger in front of him. Jesse wasn’t so polite - he swallowed the burger in three bites.

“You boys need anything?” Jesse groaned internally and looked up at the waitress smiling down at them. Bright blue eyes were glazed in infatuation, staring at Hanzo.

“No thank you.” Jesse said firmly, unable to let a little anger slip into his voice. Was it so hard to leave them alone? Then - his heart jumped as Hanzo gripped his hand tightly from across the table. Jesse stared up at the waitress with wide eyes and watched her look twist into a disappointed smile.

“Alright, enjoy your meal.” She bustled off as quickly as she had come. As soon as she was gone Jesse yanked his hand away.

“Not here.” He hissed. Hanzo looked confused, but said nothing. He silently returned to his meal. Jesse immediately felt a regretful pink tinge creep onto his cheeks. 

They said nothing of consequence for the rest of the meal. Normally that would be a good thing - just talking about little things, enjoying each other’s company - but the tense atmosphere was so thick that you could slice it. The instant Hanzo had stopped sipping from his coffee (which Jesse was sure he was doing slowly on purpose), Jesse bustled them out of the diner and back into the car. On the way out, the energetic waitress blew a kiss to Hanzo. He didn’t even catch her eye.

“Sorry about that, darling. We should have gone somewhere more quiet.” Jesse said when they were finally back on the road. The red sleeves of his plaid shirt were rolled up, letting the sun warm them. The town quickly disappeared behind them, leaving them back in the endless tawny fields. Hanzo shot him a dry glance.

“You didn’t want to hold my hand.” He said bluntly. Jesse gripped the steering wheel tighter.

_Get a load of this! The Deadlock kid’s a fucking sissy!_

“America ain’t like Canada, darling. People aren’t so accepting.” Jesse muttered.

“The waitress did not act aggressively towards us.”

“She could have!” Jesse snapped. “And the further south we go the more careful we’re gonna have to be.” His voice cooled slightly. “Anyway. How about we pop into the next town we see and grab you another book - It’s a long drive to South Dakota.”

* * *

By the time the sky had faded to a calming purple, and the houses silhouetted against the horizon were fading to black, there were five books piled on the back seat of the car. Jesse turned the car around a gentle corner and they shifted slightly, the one on top sliding off the stack.

“Good thing we found that second hand shop - you sure read fast, darlin’.” He said, sneaking a glance at Hanzo’s face. He was absorbed in yet another book - a beat up, yellowing paperback, entitled _‘Murder in Eichenwalde’._

“It is most enjoyable.” Hanzo responded absently. Jesse chewed at his lip; Hanzo had been somewhat quiet during the trip. Although he’d come to expect comfortable silence from Hanzo, his attempts to talk had been replied by grunts or short responses - a few times he simply hadn’t answered. He wasn’t sure whether it was just because the books had kept him preoccupied - or if he’d been angry at him for spurning him at the diner.

“How about we find a motel tonight.” Jesse suggested. Hanzo grunted in reply and turned a page in his novel. Jesse bit back a sigh and instead glanced around the town they’d found themselves in. Framed by forested mountains that were now like black paper on the horizon, it was small and idyllic. He swung into the first motel carpark he saw, the engine sputtering to a stop. He opened the door, got out, then closed it with a slam. He took an appreciative breath of the chilly air and thought of his jacket tucked away in the car’s boot.

“Let’s hit the hay before we freeze to death.” Jesse said as soon as Hanzo was by his side. Hanzo’s cool gaze swept over the motel critically, taking in its small carpark fountain, and its blocky hall of rooms.

The two trundled to the front office. A bored looking teenager slouched in a plastic orange chair and stared at them impassively as they walked towards him.

“Howdy. Got one room just for tonight?” Jesse asked, his arms crossed to protect from the wind. The teenager’s eyes slid from him, to Hanzo, to the till in front of him.

“One bed or two.” He said in a monotone voice.

“One.” Hanzo said quickly. Jesse couldn’t help but stiffen slightly.

_Jesse McCree, the Deadlock gang’s little embarrassment._

The kid nodded and slid a card reader towards him.

“No smoking inside, no animals, pool opens at 10.” The teen listed off mechanically. Jesse nodded and turned to find Hanzo had wandered off to pop open the car’s trunk.

“Right, gotcha. Uh... Y’all got netflix?”

* * *

“You don’t look like the kind to watch chick flicks.” Jesse commented. The opening scene of _How to lose a guy in ten days_ was unfolding before them on the room’s small television screen. They were lying in bed, Hanzo snuggled up against Jesse. Hanzo let out a huff which made Jesse smile.

“Everybody should be able to appreciate the nuance of romance and cinematography in such films.” He replied in a matter-of-fact voice. Jesse’s arm was slung behind Hanzo’s shoulders and he traced lazy circles on his arm.

“Whatever you say, darlin’.” He said with a chuckle. He kissed Hanzo gently, and sighed contently when Hanzo rested his head on his shoulder.

“It did not escape me that you acted strangely today.” Hanzo said quietly. Jesse’s eyes slid away from him to the darkness of the room around him.

“Sorry about that, Han. I just want you to be safe.” He replied.

“Is that all there is to it?”

“Yes! Of course!” Jesse replied defensively. Hanzo looked at him skeptically but didn’t reply.

“Hey - we never opened that box Lena gave us.” Jesse suggested. He reached over to the pile of bags and boxes piled up next to the bed (which very much annoyed Hanzo) and rifled around until he found the small, cream box. He plonked it on the bed sheets between them. Hanzo reached over and gently pried off the lid.

“Aw, they shouldn’t have…” Jesse murmured affectionately. Gently nestled in light blue crepe paper was a box of chocolates, and underneath was a disc. 

“Best of Hasselhoff.” Jesse read, and couldn’t help but chuckle.

“This is too kind of them…” Hanzo said, a tender smile on his face. Jesse felt his heart melt looking at Hanzo’s smile. He couldn’t help but steal a kiss.

“Mmm… Jesse, you are distracting me from the movie…” Hanzo murmured, playfully pulling away only to be swept right back into another kiss. The box was carefully placed back on the ground - leaving plenty of space for Hanzo to roll over and hook his leg around Jesse. The movie forgotten, their kisses slowly became long and passionate. Hanzo was so warm in Jesse’s arms, so comforting… he wanted to always be this close to him. Jesse’s arm trailed to behind Hanzo, and pressed him even closer.

“You’re so beautiful, darling. More beautiful than anything else.” He murmured, gently exploring the curves and muscles of Hanzo’s body. It wasn’t long before Hanzo was on top of him, pressing down oh-so-right and kissing him long and hard. Finally Jesse broke away, and circled his thumb gently on Hanzo’s cheek.

“Darling… Do you want to… Is it okay if we…” He stumbled for words.

“Have sex?” Hanzo queried. Jesse raised his eyebrows at the bluntness.

“Yeah.”

“I would like that.” Hanzo murmured his response in a low, sultry tone. Jesse felt a shiver travel up his spine.

“God, I love you, Han.” He breathed.

“I love you too.” Hanzo said, embracing him in a kiss again. Not breaking from the kiss, Jesse reached over to grab the remote - the television turned off with a click. 

“Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll be right here every step of the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An extra long chapter this time! I just couldn't stop myself :P
> 
> I hope you guys liked this chapter! Hopefully the road trip won't be a pointless waste of words, so I'm trying to set up some character development and a small story arc for it. I hope you all like it!
> 
> (The Setting Sun is a novel by Osamu Dazai, a famous author :3c)


	15. Bad Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! This chapter contains homophobia, bad memories being triggered and past physical abuse.

Long, winding roads dominated Jesse’s dreams that night. Highways through red valleys sprawled across his vision, carrying the sound of mocking laughter on an arid wind. A condor called.

“Mmf.” Jesse wrinkled his nose. Something silky but irritating was aggravating his nose. He opened his eyes and blearily realised that his face was buried in Hanzo’s hair. While it smelled great - like apples and cold spring mornings - it was making him want to sneeze. He gently extracted his arm from its position over Hanzo’s chest, hesitant to disturb his slumber. He clearly wasn’t careful enough, however; his shifting made Hanzo’s head roll slightly and his eyes snapped open. As soon as his black eyes were open, Hanzo inhaled sharply.

“Genji, don’t go!” He gasped. Strong tanned arms immediately cradled him closely.

“It’s alright, Han. It was just a dream.” Jesse murmured. Hanzo gripped him tightly in response, his breathing laboured as he fought to keep it even. 

“He was so close to me. I could have touched him.” Hanzo breathed. Jesse stroked his raven hair, holding him close.

“Don’t think about it. That’s the worst thing you can do right now, darlin’. Think about me, think about what we’re going to do today. Think about this.” Jesse picked up Hanzo’s pale hand and began to trace small circles on its palm with his thumb. Around and around, letting Hanzo focus on the warmth of his hand. After a few moments Hanzo took a deep breath and leant away from Jesse’s embrace. He shuffled around so that he was sitting on the bed facing Jesse. They hugged each other closely, Hanzo’s face buried in Jesse’s shoulder.

“What did I do to deserve you?” Hanzo said under his breath. His silken hair fell like a veil over his face, shining in the morning light. Jesse smiled. 

“You deserve more than you think, darling.”

* * *

By the time the two had stepped outside, ready for another day on the road, the sun was out in all his burning glory and the busy hum of a bustling town was carried to them by a lazy southern wind. The bored looking teenager that had served them yesterday was nowhere to be seen, and a slightly more chipper looking girl took their room key with a smile as they passed by the small office booth. Jesse noted that she almost completely ignored Hanzo; her brown eyes passed over him absently, simply acknowledging his existence before moving on as Jesse slowly cruised out of the carpark. As soon as they’d pulled out of the motel’s parking lot, Jesse glanced at Hanzo.

“That gal didn’t even take a second look at you.” He commented. Hanzo nodded.

“I have found that women not attracted to men are unaffected by incubi.” He replied. Jesse raised his eyebrows.

“So that’s why Lena’s normal around you, huh?”

“Yes - but being around an Incubus for long enough makes the effect lessen anyway.” Hanzo replied.

“That sure hasn’t happened to me, darlin’.” Jesse purred. He could see the rosy pink that flushed Hanzo’s cheeks, could hear the huffing noise that slipped from his pursed lips. He guided the car around a corner. Clunk! The sound of books thudding to the floor made him wince.

“Maybe we ought to head into a second hand store n’ see if they do a bookswap.” He suggested. Hanzo nodded in response.

“Would you like me to consult an online map of this town?”

“Naw, let’s do this the fun way.” Jesse replied with a grin. He pulled onto the town’s main street and cruised slowly along it. The town was alive - already the streets were adorned with people walking and ducking into stores. Jesse swept his gaze over the antiquated shop signs critically. There were a thousand different tiny coffee shops - and a startling number of pet stores - but no op shops or book stores. Jesse was about to give up when Hanzo pointed out the windscreen towards a small shop.

“There, a second hand book store!” Hanzo said with a smile. Jesse whistled in admiration.

“You’ve got a keen eyes, darlin’.” He said, smoothly parking the Cortina right outside the dark shop. Its doors were open but it was dim and seemingly empty. Jesse clambered out of the car, grabbed the pile of books on the car’s floor and joined Hanzo on the sidewalk.

“They sure know how to look inviting.” Jesse said drily. He followed Hanzo into the dark shop. _Ding!_ A small beep sounded as they entered the store. Cabinets upon cabinets of books were piled high on every wall, wooden slats sagging at the weight of the novels placed on them. Hanzo ran his hands over the spines as he walked further into the store. Jesse found himself admiring the intricate tattoo snaking down his arm, bared for all to see by Hanzo’s rolled up sleeves.

“Hello?” Jesse called into the dim shop. 

“Yeah.” A voice yelled back. A moment of wandering found Jesse and Hanzo at the counter of the store - a messy bench covered in paper and novels. A man with dark curly hair sat behind the shop’s counter, looking at them somewhat expectantly.

“Need anything?” He said with the sort of smile only a cashier could give. Jesse responded by dumping his armful of books on the counter.

“Y’all do book exchanges here?” He asked. The man looked conflicted. He tugged at the collar of his moss green sweater with a lopsided smile.

“Not usually. But, those are some lovely titles…” He said. After a moment’s consideration he smiled and pulled the books towards him.

“I’ll make an exception. For a fee of a dollar per book, you can exchange these beauties for anything you see here.” He said.

“Thank you.” Hanzo replied. The man winked and Jesse felt a small tug of jealously pull at his heart.

“Hm. Well then, how’s about we find some books?” Jesse practically dragged Hanzo away from the cashier and into the dark privacy of the bookshelves. Hanzo cast him a wry look, but obediently followed him.

“You’re into those cheesy romance novels, arent’cha?” Jesse questioned, his eyes roaming the shelves. He could smell the comforting mustiness of old books all around him.

“I have found them less appealing as of late.” Hanzo replied. Jesse glanced at him.

“An’ why’s that?”

“Because now I don’t need a novel to experience romance.” Hanzo’s words made a blush creep onto Jesse’s face. Hanzo’s hand slowly drifted over to Jesse’s.

_You thought we wouldn’t find out?_

Jesse couldn’t help but recoil. His fingers curled back, his eyes went wide. Hanzo’s eyes flashed in confusion.

“There is nobody here, Jesse.” He said. He reached up to touch Jesse’s shoulder, but Jesse turned on his heel.

“I’m going to get us some coffee.” He mumbled. He walked as fast as he could out of the store, not even looking back to see the expression on Hanzo’s face. As soon as he was outside and hit by the warm wind, he gritted his teeth and scuffed at the pavement. Why did he have to remember these things now? This hadn’t happened for years - he was over what happened all those years ago. At least he had thought so before yesterday. And to think they’d gone south so that Hanzo wouldn’t have to face his demons returning to Japan.

_Ring!_

Jesse pushing open the cafe’s white door made a small bell jingle. He trudged to the counter, struggling to keep a sad scowl off his face. The cashier looked at him impassively as he asked for two long blacks. After he’d paid, he stalled; he didn’t want to go back and face Hanzo. He didn’t want to have to talk about what was happening. With a barely audible sigh he slumped into one of the cafe’s booths and stared at the scratched plastic table, his brow furrowed.

He was getting these memories resurfacing just from being in the states again.

How would he be able to stand being back in his old home town?

“Your coffee.” A cardboard holder with two cups in it was gently placed on the table by him. Jesse mumbled a thanks.

It had been alright in Tivolson because everything had been so different, so new. Lucas had always supported him. He’d been able to distract himself, repress awful thoughts and replace them with new experiences. He’d been foolish to think this trip was a good idea.

Then he looked up. His breath hitched in his throat. Sitting in a booth only a few metres away, a man sat facing away from him, wearing a leather jacket covered in patches. He was talking in a gravelly voice.

“Well, this is what you get for taking the night bus.”

_Jesse tasted blood in his mouth. He lay on the ground, blood staining his face. The larger man’s boot had connected with his nose and was now rearing back for another strike. Jesse’s Deadlock jacket had been shirked off. It lay on the ground near to him. He could only stare at it and focus on the fraying patches in an attempt to forget the pain._

_Slam!_

_“This is what you get, McCree. What would boss think, seein’ you sneaking off with some boy? Disgusting.” The man sneered. Jesse screwed his eyes closed. Maybe it was disgusting. Maybe he was disgusting._

He couldn’t move. He was petrified, unable to tear his eyes away from the jacket. Clawing dread gripped around his throat. His knuckles were white, gripping the table tightly.

“Jesse?” Hanzo’s voice made him jump. He looked up with trembling eyes and stared at Hanzo.

“Jesse, what’s wrong?” Hanzo asked, sitting down onto the seat opposite him. Jesse looked at him in horror.

“Don’t - don’t get near me. I can’t take it again.” He stammered. He stood up abruptly, much to Hanzo’s surprise.

“What are you talking about?” He asked. Jesse stared around wildly. Several sets of eyes watched him, boring into his soul.

_Just you wait until I find whoever you were with. ___

____

____

“I can’t - I don’t -” 

He bolted. He stormed out of the cafe, and ran as soon as he was outside. He could taste blood in his mouth. He ran until the blind fear had subsided and he was gasping for breath. Disgusting. He was disgusting. 

“Jesse, please stop!” Hanzo’s voice drove a fearful spear through his heart. He was in a park, surrounded by trees. He tripped and wavered, staggering to a stop.

“It’s me. Everything is alright. Jesse?” He could hear Hanzo’s footsteps approaching. Tears were falling from his nose, trembling with every ragged breath. A hand ever so gently placed itself on his shoulder. He recoiled from the touch and stumbled away from Hanzo. 

“Okay, no touching. Jesse, please look at me. You are safe now. There is nobody else here.” Hanzo’s voice was soothing. A rock amongst tumultuous waters. Jesse took another gasping breath, fighting to stop himself from hyperventilating.

“Jesse, let’s sit down. It’s alright.” Hanzo’s calm voice guided him towards a park bench. He sat down slowly, gripping the edge of the seat tightly. They sat there unspeaking for a moment. The only noise was Jesse’s laboured breathing.

“Is there anything you need?” Hanzo asked quietly. Jesse shook his head. His hair hung over his face, shielding him from the world around him. He could feel fear and confused anger still bubbling in his veins.

“We can’t keep goin’ south.” He mumbled. Hanzo didn’t reply. 

“We’ve gotta go back, Han.”

“You know we cannot, Jesse.”

“ _I_ can.” He snapped in response. Instantly he regretted it. He looked up and saw Hanzo’s eyes widen.

“I know you do not mean that.” Hanzo’s voice was hesitant. Jesse hung his head again.

“How about we go to the motel and stay here one more night.” Hanzo said. His voice was becoming cold. God damn it. Why did he have to fuck everything up? He wanted nothing more than to reach out and let Hanzo hold him, but every muscle was locked in place.

“Can you get to the car?” Hanzo asked. Jesse nodded, refusing to catch his eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;O; Why do I do this to my favourite gay cowboy? Next chapter will be hurt/comfort and cute fluff, I promise!


	16. Huckleberry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! This chapter contains descriptions of past abuse. If that kind of thing squicks you, skip the first block and start at the first line break.

They sat in silence during the drive to the motel. As soon as they were back inside the comforting walls of a room, Jesse slumped onto the couch. He could hear Hanzo pottering in the kitchen behind him but he couldn’t bear the thought of talking - of trying to pretend everything was okay.

“We forgot the coffee you bought at the store, and they only have tea.” Hanzo said apologetically. He gently placed a steaming cup of tea on the table in front of Jesse, then slid onto the couch beside him. They were only a few inches away from each other.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Hanzo murmured. Jesse picked up the cup and held it tightly.

“I just - I’ve been rememberin’ things.” He muttered. “I guess bein’ back in the states is bringing it all back.”

“I understand. Is it alright if I touch you?” Hanzo’s voice was low and comforting. Jesse could feel his anxious edge ebbing away. 

“Yeah, I think so.” He mumbled. With gentle movements, Hanzo picked up his hand and laced their fingers together. Jesse tensed at the touch, but exhaled and forced his muscles to relax. He leant against Hanzo’s shoulder and sighed as the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest comforted him.

They sat in silence for a few moments. Jesse eventually bit his lip and withdrew from his position, sitting up to face Hanzo.

“Han… I oughta’ tell you more about my past. Might help you understand why this is happenin’.” He said. Hanzo nodded. He held Jesse’s hand a little tighter. Jesse took a deep breath, and let out a nervous chuckle.

“Where to begin. Um. I told you about my bein’ in a gang an’ all. I was a Deadlock kid ever since I was 13, right up until 18. Then I hightailed it up to Wyoming an’ met Lucas. But when I was in Deadlock…” He paused. “They weren’t nice people. Naw, scrap that, they were terrible people. Picked me up off the street talkin’ of helpin’ me, then guilt-tripped me into being in a living hell. Made me feel worthless. And…” He paused.

“You don’t have to tell me if it is hurting you.” Hanzo murmured. Jesse shook his head.

“No. It’ll hurt more to keep it in. I’d always known, you know. That I was gay. An’ as much as I tried to keep it a secret, I’d get crushes - and I was a teenager full of hormones - I couldn’t keep it to myself forever. I started secretly datin’ some ranch hand’s son. Got caught kissin’ him behind a stable. They - well, they hurt me real bad. Busted up my face, made me feel like shit fer’ being who I was. An’ it didn’t stop.” Tears were pricking Jesse’s eyes.

“I lived a year of being told I was dirt. Ana was my only friend. Then I finally got my hands on some money and got out of there as fast as my legs could take me. I didn’t… I hated myself.” He admitted. “I got over it - well, sort of - but damn. Now it’s all comin’ back. An’ I don’t know why.” Tears were falling down his cheeks. 

“I… I don’t know what to say.” Hanzo said quietly. He gently wiped a tear from Jesse’s cheek, cradling his face.

“It’s… It’s terrible what they did to you.” He murmured. “But they can’t hurt you anymore. You are so much more than them. You are strong, and handsome, and perfect just the way you are.”

Jesse smiled crookedly. “I’m glad you think so, darlin’.”

“I know so. You are the warmest, kindest person I have ever met. I love you more than anything.” Hanzo said. “I will always be here for you. Ai shiteru.” Hanzo breathed. He leaned forwards slightly and his eyes searched Jesse’s questioningly. He responded by gently holding Hanzo’s chin and fitting their mouths together. They were slow, Jesse’s emotions still taut and nervous, but with Hanzo’s tender embrace he slowly relaxed and unraveled into his touch.

“I love you, Han.” Jesse murmured, melting into Hanzo’s warmth as he was drawn closer. His head was cradled gently as they kissed, his waist guided until he was sitting on Hanzo’s lap. His heart still hurt. His nerves were still frayed. But his bruised soul felt warmer every time he was this close to Hanzo, completing each other in every way.

After a while of passionate embrace, Jesse found that the biting memories had faded from his mind completely. Every fibre of his being was focused on how goddamn _good_ it felt to be with Hanzo. Finally they drew apart, Jesse reluctant to pull away from the tender kiss.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He said earnestly. Hanzo’s eyebrows raised slightly.

“You will never have to find out.” He replied firmly.

* * *

The next day they headed out again. Hanzo drove this time - ‘I cannot tolerate the boredom any longer’ - and Jesse was left staring out the window at the scenery that flew by. South Dakota had been left far behind, rolling brown replaced with the lighter green and occasional mountains of Wyoming. Jesse sometimes felt his mind tugging at the frayed edges of memories, but he forced himself not to think of them. Instead, he gazed at the shrubs surrounding them. A sudden movement in a bush caught his eye.

“Look, Han, a sage grouse!” He cried, his head craned out the open window. He pushed his hat down firmly, the wind threatening to whip it off.

“I’m driving, I cannot look.” Hanzo replied, slightly exasperated - this was the seventh time Jesse had felt the urge to point out wildlife.

“Aww, an’ it was a big one too.” Jesse said despondently.

“You know a lot about American fauna.” Hanzo’s voice sounded distant due to the wind. Jesse stuck his head back in the car.

“Mostly just birds.” He confessed. “Had a thing for ‘em as a little kid. Out here in wyoming you’ve got lots of cool ones - gray Partridge, white-tailed Ptarmigan, Chukar…” He listed on his fingers.

“And your favourite bird?” Hanzo queried. Jesse grinned.

“Condors! Y’ain’t really been scared ‘till a Condor dive bombs you. They’re big as Wolves with twice the anger!” He declared. He wondered if he would be able to convince Hanzo that he’d wrestled one. Probably not.

“Are we likely to see one here?” Hanzo asked.

“Naw, I don’t think we’re west enough. Ain’t many left either.” Jesse replied. “But when we’re down in New Mexico, There’ll be eagles. They’re damn big too. Massive! You’re gonna be amazed.” 

“I don’t think so. They’re not the only thing that’s big.” He shot Jesse a side-eye.

Jesse nearly choked. He could feel his cheeks blossoming red.

“Ain’t -” splutter- “Ain’t like you to make such a dirty joke!” He snorted. Hanzo didn’t reply, but his mouth curled slightly into a clearly-pleased-with-himself grin.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jesse. I meant nothing of the sort.”

“Like hell you didn’t.”

* * *

“Are you sure there’s a motel soon?” Hanzo squinted at the road ahead of them. The straight highway extended to the horizon, devoid of any buildings as far as the eye could see. Jesse scrutinised the map in his hands.

“There should be. It’s got that little house symbol right where we are.” He replied. He glanced at the printing information of the map. Copyright 1995.

“Ah. Looks like this version of the map’s a tad outdated.” Jesse said sheepishly. Hanzo groaned.

“Can we not just use our phones to navigate?” 

“Where’s your sense of fun? We’ll just camp out under the stars again.”

“That gave me a very sore back last time.” Hanzo grumbled. He pulled the car onto the side of the road and it ground to a stop, a plume of dust rising behind them. In every direction was dark shrubbery, becoming dimmer with every moment. Above them, the sky melted from purple to black, flecked with thousands of twinkling stars. As soon as the car stopped Jesse yanked his door open.

“Let’s stargaze.” He announced. There was another barely audible grumble from Hanzo. He begrudgingly followed Jesse outside onto the hard earth. Jesse walked a few metres from the car, then plonked himself down on the side of the road. It was still warm from the blistering day. Hanzo slowly sat down beside him, legs tucked closely to his chest.

“Look, there’s pegasus!” Jesse pointed up at the sparkling constellations above.

“An’ there’s ursa major.” Hanzo followed his gesture upwards.

“Where?”

“See those three close together? Then those four beside it.” Jesse leaned towards him to point more accurately. Soon their faces were almost touching, staring up at the night sky. 

“Ah, I see it. It is beautiful.” Hanzo murmured. A cold breeze ruffled his hair, making his ponytail quiver.

“It’s cold, darlin’. Don’t want you getting a chill.” Jesse said, slinging an arm over his shoulder. Hanzo reached up and held his hand.

“I do not want you getting a chill either. Perhaps this will warm you up.” He murmured, slowly kissing Jesse. In an instant, Jesse forgot all about the stars overhead, or the cold wind that was picking up. He pressed into the kiss. He needed to be closer, to feel more of Hanzo’s soothing warmth and love.

They kissed until the moon had crept over the horizon, its pale light illuminating the silent world around them. Then they just lay there, watching the stars above them, appreciating each other’s presence.

“You know darlin’, it wasn’t too long ago that I was fendin’ off a bunch of werewolves going after your throat.”

“We have certainly come a long way.”

“I guess crazy situations push people together, huh.” Jesse murmured. He could still remember the turmoil he’d felt. The terror, the anxiety, even the slight pangs of hatred at what he had become. Of course, none of those feelings had fully gone away - but another had joined their ranks. 

Unconditional love towards Hanzo.

“You know… I wouldn’t have blamed you for not trying to save me.” Hanzo said quietly. “You threw away your chance at a normal life for me. That day… It was not your fight.”

“Bullshit.” Jesse said firmly. “I didn’t throw anything away. And look what I got out of it. The most charmin’ man in the whole world.” He laid a kiss on Hanzo’s forehead.

“I love you, Han. I’m your huckleberry. Now an’ forever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys! Not quite 2,000 words this time - I had a bit of trouble resolving this little arc. But I hope you enjoyed this new chapter! I think next chapter I might skip the rest of the road trip and start to chronicle their time in New Mexico - extra opinions are super welcome, so please drop me your opinion in a comment! It'll help me make this fic as good for everybody as possible <3


	17. Back in Town

“So, this is it, huh.” Jesse murmured. The green sign was rusted, bent at the edges, and leaning precariously, but it still stood and proudly proclaimed the name of the small town below them.

_Mesilla._

Jesse closed his eyes. It was going to be alright. He opened his eyes again and glanced at Hanzo. The car was idling, his dark eyes wandering over the view before them. In front of them, the road wound down a red hill, straightening out and cutting clean through the middle of a ramshackle town. The houses were all nestled on a flat plain, surrounded by rolling acres of tussock and gentle hills. A few lonely houses rested away from the town, almost all of them a tawny brown.

“Are you going to be alright?” Hanzo murmured. Jesse nodded slightly. The car’s rumbling increased and they began to roll down the twisting road. 

“Ain’t changed much.” Jesse said. It really hadn’t; he could see the panorama diner, big earl’s (he was pretty sure he’d been banned there as a kid), even the fountain that marked the entry to town - it was still broken after all these years. Hanzo must have noticed the nervous nostalgia in Jesse’s eyes, because he slowed the car to a crawl and turned to face him.

“Jesse. We don’t have to do this. We can stay somewhere else.” He said. Jesse waved him off, squaring his jaw.

“No. It’s alright. I want to see Ana. Anyway, don’t rightly think anybody would recognise me nowadays. I was a pretty scrawny kid.” He said with a strained chuckle. How many people would he remember? Mesilla wasn’t the kind of town to change quickly. 

They finally stopped outside the panorama diner. Its grey walls framed dirty windows, shadowed underneath a curved red roof. Jesse swallowed, trying to wet his dry throat. It had seemed like such a good idea to go home when they were in Canada - now, staring down the barrel, all he felt was trepidation. Well, he couldn’t stop now. He pushed open the car door with perhaps too much gusto, and stepped out into the warm wind.

“Hasn’t changed a bit.” He announced, adjusting his hat. Hanzo glanced up at the rusting sign.

“Just don’t get the coffee. Always tasted like dirt.” Jesse said. They walked towards the doors and Jesse pushed them open. They were instantly hit by the smell of musty warmth, and a whiff of coffee. The only other customers were an old couple sipping at cracked teacups in a corner. 

“I feel misdressed.” Hanzo murmured. Jesse glanced at him - his ‘I want to believe’ t-shirt (stolen from Jesse) and expensive shoes certainly did stand out amongst the swathe of denim, plaid and boots that even Jesse was wearing.

“We’ll smarten you up soon, Han. You’d be a hell of a picture in a stetson.” He replied. Then, he turned to face the counter. Instantly his blood ran cold. Steel blue eyes stared at him, set like beady crystals in a wrinkled face. They squinted suspiciously. Receding grey hair was cut short, showing a large scar on his forehead. Jack Morrison, owner of the panorama cafe, avid member of Mesilla’s community, hater of all members of Deadlock. Jesse’s childhood fear. His throat constricted.

“Excuse me, could we please have two english breakfast teas?” Hanzo’s voice cut into the silence. Jack’s gaze slid to Hanzo almost contemptuously.

“Five dollars.” His raspy voice growled. Jesse wondered if he’d ever given up on the cigarettes he used to chainsmoke. Oh, right - the money. He fumbled to get a note out of his pocket, and nearly yanked his hand away when Jack reached for it.

“Much obliged.” He mumbled. As soon as the transaction was over he hightailed to the farthest away table, and planted himself firmly in the seat facing away from Jack. Hanzo silently slid into the seat opposite.

“You knew him?”

“Know him? I hated him. An’ he hated me.” 

“Well, he did not seem to recognise you.” 

“Thank god for that.” Jesse muttered. The tea was delivered - thank god - by some guy he didn’t know, and he took a long sip, letting the heat soothe him.

“So what is the plan?” Hanzo asked. Jesse thought for a moment.

“Well, we need to get you kitted out in some real gear. Then I s’pose we go up to Ana’s ranch.” He said. Hanzo wrinkled his nose.

“Must I wear a hat like that?”

“Like what? You better not be insultin’ my Bessy, Han.”

* * *

“I cannot believe I am wearing this.”

Jesse tried to keep the blush off his face as he looked at Hanzo. Somehow, cowboy getup had made him even more attractive. A white stetson rested on his head, and the reddish-brown plaid shirt rolled to his elbows made Jesse go crimson. Damn, Hanzo was hot.

“You look great.” Jesse felt an unbearable urge to kiss Hanzo right then and there, but sternly reminded himself they were still in the store. Hanzo grimaced, but his shoulders slumped and he relented.

“If you say so…” He grumbled. He trotted back into the dressing room, and Jesse’s gaze drifted to the other garments on the racks. He’d never been in this shop before, but its earthy colour palette made him feel comfortable. A flash of red fabric caught his eye. 

“Well I’ll be damned.” Hung on the wall was a serape. Its orange trim zig-zagged across the slightly tattered fabric. He inspected the price tag. Second hand, $5.00. He immediately bundled it in his arms. Hanzo emerged from the dressing room, back to his normal clothes, and Jesse rushed to show him his find.

“Han, look! Ain’t it pretty? This sorta thing’s perfect for cold desert nights. An’ look at the condition! Sure it’s second hand, but there ain’t a single tear!” He rambled. Hanzo smiled tenderly.

“Then let us make our purchase.” He replied, gesturing to the hat and shirt in his arms. Jesse nodded eagerly. He walked briskly to the counter, and dumped his serape on the counter. Hanzo neatly perched his garments on top.

“No bag necessary for any of this, ma’am.” He declared. The woman in front of him looked up from the till. Familiar brown eyes stared back at him. Jesse froze.

“Jesse?”

“...Fareeha?”

“Oh my _god._ ” Fareeha breathed. They just stared at each other for a moment. She was nearly taller than him now, and definitely taller than Hanzo. Her eye of horus tattoo made his breath hitch in his throat. It was just like Ana’s.

“Oh my god! Jesse! What happened? It’s been so long!” Fareeha cried. “Wait. Where did you go? You just left us! You didn’t say anything, we looked for weeks - who is this?” She looked at Hanzo incredulously. Jesse rubbed the back of his neck.

“This is Hanzo. He’s -” a breath to steel himself -”he’s my boyfriend. Hanzo, meet Fareeha. Ah… I suppose I have a lot of explainin’ to do, huh.”

“Yes you goddamn do!” Fareeha snapped. “Oh my god. What are you even doing here? Is that _facial hair_? Holy shit…" She looked torn for a moment, glancing back and forth from Jesse to the cashier. "Look - I get off in an hour. Meet me at the panorama.”

“God, Fari, you know Jack hates me.”

“Fine. The high rise bar. And you better have an answer to all my questions. I cannot _believe_ you, Jesse!” 

“I know, I’m sorry! I tried writin’, but it always got sent back.” He replied. Fareeha’s anger seemed to cloud for a moment.

“Just - go. We have a lot to catch up on, but I don’t have time now. But just so you know - I hated your guts for a year after you left.” She said. She punched in their purchase details, and Jesse paid quietly.

“I don’t blame you.” Jesse replied. He lingered for a moment. “Come on Hanzo, let’s go.”

Hanzo looked at Fareeha with bewilderment. “It was… Nice meeting you.” He stammered, before he was dragged out of the store by Jesse. As soon as the door shut behind them, Hanzo gripped Jesse’s arm to halt his brisk walk.

“What was that?” He asked. Jesse shifted uncomfortably.

“When I left Mesilla, I didn’t tell nobody where I was going but Ana. Guess she never told Fareeha for whatever reason - probably to stop her goin’ after me. Oh - Fareeha is Ana’s daughter. She was like a sister to me.” Jesse explained. Hanzo’s eyebrow crept up. 

“So you are in a lot of shit.”

“Yep.” Jesse sighed. “I don’t know why my letters never reached her. They always came back sayin’ shit like ‘no longer at this address.’ They must’ve moved.” He grumbled. Hanzo shrugged.

“So what are we going to do for an hour?” He asked, still trying to look back through the store windows at Fareeha.

“I’ll give you a tour.” Jesse suggested. “This place ain’t changed a bit, I bet I still know it like the back of my hand. But first, let’s get you into that shirt. You look damn fine in it.”

* * *

It turned out that Jesse did still know Mesilla like the back of his hand. By the time he’d shown Hanzo the secret pathway between Big Earl’s and old lady Franklin’s house, the most hidden spot in town - behind an abandoned store, where he stole a kiss - and the footprint he’d made in the sidewalk years ago, Hanzo was looking impressed but ragged. All the while, Jesse had been energetic and his talking had barely stopped; he knew that if he slowed down, he’d start thinking.

“‘Course, the sheriff didn’t do shit. Jack was really the de facto police. Him and the other shop owners. The law wouldn’t do nothin’, so they took it into their own hands.” His hands were jammed in his pockets. Hanzo walked beside him, face obscured by his hat’s shadow. He wanted badly to reach out and hold his hand, but the thought simultaneously sent a gnawing dread through his body. Instead, he glanced up at the clock that rested on top of the bank.

“Time to see Fareeha again.” He announced. Hanzo didn’t respond. “Darling?”

A tear rolled down Hanzo’s cheek.

“Darlin’, what’s wrong?” Jesse stopped walking and put his hand on Hanzo’s shoulder. Hanzo looked at him with glossy eyes.

“I’m sorry, Jesse. It’s just… You have been through so much. It hurts my heart to think of the sorrows you have endured. And to think that you are facing them again for my sake…” He murmured.

“It’s nothin’! Really, Han. I’d do anything for you. You don’t need to worry ‘bout any of that. It was in the past, and now I’ve got you. It all turned out good.” Jesse said, brushing away the tear. Hanzo smiled slightly. 

“Thank you, Jesse. I love you.”

“I love you too, Han.” Jesse replied. He turned to start walking - then realised that they had stopped right outside the High Rise bar.

“Come on, darlin’. I think you’ll like Fareeha. She’s got a fighting spirit.” Jesse said encouragingly. He pushed open the swinging doors. Ah, that familiar scent of spirits and sawdust. Dust danced in pale yellow light, disturbed only by a whirring fan in the corner. It was still light outside so the place was nearly barren, save for Fareeha sitting at one of the tables. Jesse’s walk nearly slowed to a crawl as he approached. He took off his hat, smiled sheepishly, then sat down opposite her. Hanzo - as always - looked like a perching bird when he sat down, looking like his fight-or-flight response was on the verge of kicking in.

“Alright.” Fareeha took a deep breath. “I’m not mad. Okay, I’m mad. You have a lot of explaining to do. So start.”

Jesse shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“You knew the kind of situation I was in back then, Fari. I was up shit creek without a paddle. But then I found some money.”

“Found?”

“Alright, stole some money. Enough to buy a bus ticket. I borrowed - damn, don’t look at me like that - alright, I stole a horse and went to Los Loros. I went up to Wyoming. I met a guy and moved to Canada. Then I met Hanzo.”

“And why are you only back here now?!”

“This ain’t been easy for me, Fari. Everyone here hates me! I’m only here now because-” He caught himself. “Well, it’s a long story. What have you been doing all this time?”

The annoyed look on Fareeha’s face ebbed slightly. “I wanted to join the army. But, Mama didn’t want that for me. So I stayed here. I’m trying to save up to move to California, but I hardly make any money. I’m stuck.” She muttered. “I hate this place, Jesse. It’s like a noose.”

“I know how you feel, little sister.” Jesse replied. “How’s Ana, by the way? Do kids still think she’s the local witch?”

“I… I think you’d better see for yourself.” Fareeha said quietly. Hanzo was clearly appraising her with a critical eye.

“Earlier, you were surprised that Jesse had facial hair. May I ask why that is?” He asked. Fareeha raised her eyebrows. Jesse groaned.

“No need to be so formal, mister.” She leaned forward and a wicked grin grew on her face. “But I’ll tell you a secret. Jesse couldn’t even grow a whisker when he was eighteen.”

Hanzo looked at Jesse in surprise - he was hanging his head in shame.

“It seems there is a lot I don’t know about your past.” He commented. Jesse just groaned again.

“You’re ruining my life, Fari. Jus’ shoot me now, why don’t’cha.”

She giggled a little. “Tell me, what are you doing now as a job? Ranch hand? Lumberjack?”

Jesse glared at Hanzo. He looked back smugly.

“Jesse is a baker at the cafe Gibraltar. I have been told he is very good at glazing pastries.” He said with a malicious smile. Fareeha looked like she was about to explode. Then she burst into raucous laughter, making Jesse go red.

“Hey now, it’s a respectable job!” He protested, getting flustered as Fareeha’s laughter trailed off, although she was still sniggering.

“Cowboy-forever Jesse McCree, baker? That’s priceless. I think I like you, Hanzo.”

“Thank you, Miss Fareeha.” Hanzo started to chuckle too. Eventually Jesse couldn’t help but start laughing, and the three sat there giggling until Jesse’s stomach ached. Fareeha wiped a tear from her eye and faced Jesse.

“God, you’re an asshole.” She said, a smile still on her face. “But I can’t hate my big brother. I’m glad you’re back in Mesilla. How about we have something to eat, and then I’ll take you to see Ana.” She said. “And you’re paying.”

“You break my heart, Fari.”

“And your appetite breaks my wallet.”

“Touché.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so much fun to write! Fun fact - Mesilla is a real place in New Mexico, but I won't be basing this fictional town on it. Instead I'm drawing inspiration from the route 66 map on Overwatch. 
> 
> By the way - in case you were wondering, in this fic Fareeha and Jesse aren't really related. They just see each other as brother and sister.


	18. A visit

“Sure is a nice day.” Even with the shade of his hat, Jesse had to squint against the roaring sun that beat down on the dry tussock all around him. It washed out the yellow sky. Every step in the brown earth made a gentle crunching noise. His hand gripped Hanzo’s tightly, but even couldn’t completely repel the anxiety clawing at his throat. Every step was taking him closer to Ana.

“I forgot how much I loved the sunsets.” He murmured. Hanzo didn’t reply. Behind them, the dirt road seemed to extend endlessly, rolling over field after dry field. Far in the distance it trailed back into town. In front of them, Ana’s house stood against the horizon. Everything was just the same - the small porch looked out at the fields, held up on ribs of wood. A broken carriage wheel leant against the side. 

“She’s gonna love you, Han. When I tell her you saved my life, well. She ain’t gonna be impressed with me fer’ getting into trouble, but I think she’ll like you.” Jesse chuckled. Fareeha was walking a few steps ahead, and her gait faltered. She slowed down to let Jesse get beside her.

“Jesse… There is something you should know. I should have told you earlier, but…” She bit her lip.

“Fari, whatever it is, don’t worry about it. How ‘bout you tell me once we’ve said hello, she’s yelled at me enough, an’ we settle down for a drink.” Jesse replied with a soft smile. Fareeha looked away, clearly about to speak, but instead sighed quietly.

“Just… Come this way.” Fareeha motioned for him and Hanzo to follow her off the dirt track, away from the house. Jesse raised an eyebrow but obediently followed. 

“I take it Ana was like a mother to you.” Hanzo said quietly. Jesse nodded.

“Yes an’ no. She was more n’ that. She was my friend, my teacher. I admired her.” He said. Fareeha stopped walking. She was on a ridge in the brittle grass, towering over them but facing away at whatever was below. Jesse glanced up at her.

“Everything alright?”

“Come up here, Jesse. I’m… I’m sorry.” Her voice floated down.

“Y’ain’t making much sense, Fari, but alright.” Jesse replied. He gripped Hanzo’s hand a little tighter and started to lumber up the hill.

“I sure ain’t as spry as I used to…” His voice trailed off. His hand let go of Hanzo’s, slowly reached forwards, jerked back and recoiled against his serape.

A grave.

A simple thing. No frills. Just a rectangular slab of marbled rock resting on the grassy slope. He couldn’t read what was engraved on it. He didn’t need to. Hanzo’s hand came to rest on his shoulder.

“Jesse, I’m so sorry…” He murmured. Jesse swallowed the bile rising in his throat.

“Hanzo, c’mere.” He gently picked up Hanzo’s hand again and started to walk down the slope. Now he could see her name etched in large letters on the slab. He had to squint to read the writing underneath. It was made harder by the tears pricking at his eyes, but he finally made it out. So she’d been dead for three years, and he’d had no idea… He came to a stop a metre from the stone. Hanzo stood beside him silently. Jesse took a ragged breath.

“Hey, Ana.” His voice trembled. “Should’ve come back sooner, huh. An’ I should have said goodbye properly when I had the chance. But I’m here now. An’ I brought someone with me. This is Hanzo. He’s my boyfriend. I was drunk, an’ I saved him from some wolves, but then he had to save me right back. He’s been saving me ever since, truth be told. I ain’t ever met someone so handsome, Ana.” He was talking through tears. “Every day I see him an’ I’m in love all over again. I knew you’d like him because you’re both smart, an’ you were gonna have tea with him an’ tell him about all the dumb things I did as a teenager an’ - an’-” Jesse broke off into heaving sobs. Hanzo’s arms were immediately around him, holding him tightly. Not even that could dispel the horrible, unbearable grief that was blossoming in his heart.

“She’s gone, Hanzo. She’s gone an’ I didn’t get to say goodbye.” He screwed his eyes shut, Hanzo’s top gripped in his white-knuckled fists. Hanzo gently stroked his hair.

“No, Jesse. You are here with her now.” He murmured. Jesse didn’t know how long he cried into Hanzo’s shirt. It felt like it could have been seconds, or hours. Finally he pulled himself away and wiped his puffy eyes with his cuff. Hanzo discreetly dabbed at his own watering eyes. Fareeha was a few metres away, her eyes locked on the gravestone. As soon as she noticed Jesse had stepped away from Hanzo, she strode towards him.

“I’m so sorry. I should have told you sooner I just - couldn’t. You know - she talked about you, Jesse. She wanted you to know… She forgave you.” Fareeha murmured. Jesse took a shaky breath. Then he was hugging Fareeha, fighting back another wave of tears. 

“Life is not the same without her. But she wants us to be happy.” She said quietly. Jesse nodded, his forehead resting on Fareeha’s shoulder. After a lingering moment he drew his head back and smiled weakly at Fareeha.

“She’d want us to be happy.” He repeated. It felt impossible to be happy with this new and intolerable pain writhing in his heart.

“I will make us some coffee. I’m sorry, I don’t like to be near this place.” Fareeha said. “Do you want to come in with me?”

“Just give me a moment.” Jesse replied softly. Fareeha nodded, a sad gleam in her eyes. The wind whipped her hair back as she walked up the ridge, and disappeared down the other side. Jesse watched her go. If he stared at the waves in the grass, and the dimming orange sky behind it, he could almost pretend that Ana’s grave wasn’t behind him. He had to turn around. When he did, another stab of guilt drove itself into his conscience. Hanzo was murmuring something to the gravestone.

“ _Watashi wa kare o aishiteimasu. Arigatōgozaimashita._ ” He closed his eyes for a moment, then turned to look at Jesse.

“Are you alright?” He asked. Jesse nodded, wiping his eye again quickly. 

“Just a shock, was all. You talkin’ to her?” He questioned. 

“I was thanking her.”

“What for?”

“For you.”

* * *

“It used to smell different.” Jesse’s voice echoed against creaking timbers. Wooden floorboards sagged with every hesitant step. The scent of smoke was new. Ana didn’t smoke.

“You smoking?” Jesse asked Fareeha suspiciously. She rolled her eyes.

“You’re in no position to tell me off.” She snapped. Jesse leant his head in begrudging agreement and ventured further into the house he knew so well. 

“She didn’t… She didn’t keep any of my stuff, did she?” He asked. Hanzo gripped his arm.

“Are you sure you want to do this now? Maybe we should wait a while.” He suggested. Jesse shook his head.

“Naw, I’m alright. I don’t wanna keep any of it. Maybe we should even burn some of it. I ain’t keen on remembering a lot of it.” He muttered. 

“Yeah, I think there’s a box of stuff in her room.” Fareeha replied. “I’m gonna put the kettle on. I better not come back and walk in on you two doing something gross and romantic.” She teased, already half out of the room. Jesse glanced down the hallway towards the closed door that marked Ana’s room. He could feel Hanzo’s hesitance, so turned to face him. He picked up Hanzo’s hands and held them in his own, bringing them to his chest.

“It’s alright, Han. It really is. This is all - it’s a shock, but I don’t think Ana would’ve wanted me to be sad about this.”

“And if they bring back bad memories?”

“Well, ‘course they will. Can’t help that. But you’ll be with me, won’t’cha?” Jesse implored. Hanzo sighed, the stern lines of his face softening.

“Yes. I will always be here for you.” He murmured. Jesse smiled weakly and gently kissed his cheek.

“Ew, gross.” Fareeha teased. Jesse jumped and glanced at her sheepishly - her head was craned around the doorframe, hair cascading down from her laughing face.

“Coffee’s ready.”

“How strong’d you make it?”

“It’s nearly eye watering.”

“Perfect!” Jesse broke into a lopsided grin. He didn’t let go of Hanzo’s hands - instead he dragged him to the small kitchen table where three mugs were steaming. A shiver ran up his back from the memories that bombarded him. His cowboy boots resting on the table - folding his arms grumpily as he was told off for it. The endless strong coffee and cured meat from rabbits he’d shot - really, the only thing that hadn’t changed was Fareeha sitting opposite him. But, of course, even she had transformed. 

“She, um.” She was stirring her coffee with one hand, while the other raked through her black hair. “She had a heart attack. She was off on one of her callouts - someone’s dog had been shot. I was there helping. She just - she just keeled over. Dropped like a stone.” Fareeha murmured. “She had a little funeral out here - I didn’t attend.”

“Why not?” Jesse asked. Fareeha bit her lip.

“Because you weren’t there.” She replied. Jesse gripped his coffee mug tightly.

“Damn. I’m sorry, Fari. I fucked up.” He rubbed his scruffy chin.

“It’s… It’s in the past.” Fareeha’s voice sounded tired. The kind of tired that made Jesse wince, knowing the situations that had made him feel the same. She sipped her coffee, made a face, set it down.

“Maybe I made it a little too strong.” She said. Jesse stalled for a moment, then pushed his chair back and stood up.

“How about I look at that box, an’ then me n’ Hanzo can tell you all about what we’ve been doing all this time.” He suggested. 

“Sounds good. You can stay here for the night if you want. I don’t know if you want to be in your old room, but I can throw some blankets on the couch.” She replied. Jesse smiled.

“That’d be mighty kind. Coming, Han?”

“Yes.” Hanzo stood up, and gripped Jesse’s hand reassuringly. The feeling of his warmth soothed his tired nerves. He gave Fareeha one last smile, then walked with Hanzo out of the kitchen and into the hall. Night had fallen quickly, and the hall was lit only by an orange lamp hanging from the roof. A few moths clustered around it. Jesse stopped at the door to Ana’s room, and swallowed.

“I am here, Jesse.” Hanzo said softly, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Thank you, darling.” Jesse gently pushed open the door.

_Ana._

He could almost imagine her still standing there. The beige bed was undisturbed, her bedside table uncluttered. A painting hung on the wall - soaring mountains frozen in time. Surprisingly, his heart didn’t feel painful. Instead, he felt calm. That had always been Ana’s gift. Calmness in the face of chaos. Strength in the maws of hell. A set of photographs on her nightstand caught his attention. His hand fell away from Hanzo and he gently picked up the frames.

“That’s - that’s her.” He murmured. She was smiling, holding the hand of a tiny Fareeha. Jesse traced the image with his finger, feeling tears well up. The other photograph surprised him. It was him - he was scrawny and dishevelled, wearing a red bandanna around his neck. He was smiling; he was sitting on a grassy incline, the sun creeping down behind him.

“That is a beautiful photograph.” Hanzo said, by his side. Jesse blushed. 

“I was a grumpy, skinny kid. Don’t know what happened between then an’ now.” He said with a chuckle. He glanced at the picture of Ana, then glanced away - he had come to look at his old belongings, and the sooner that was over, the better. He turned around to face Ana’s cupboard. Darkness hid behind its thin white slats. Slowly, he pulled it open with a click. So many clothes he remembered… He pushed them out of his mind and kneeled down. There were several boxes tucked away on the floor, but a large brown one caught his eye. He slid it out, and placed it on the ground between him and Hanzo. They both stared down at it.

“I love you.” Hanzo breathed. “And I am here for you.”

“Thanks, darlin’.” Jesse fought the urge to grab Hanzo’s hand and race out of the room. Instead he started to open the box. It opened with a raspy noise, and Jesse’s breath hitched in his throat as soon as he saw what was inside. At the very top, folded neatly, was his Deadlock jacket. He froze. His fingers hovered above the leather surface, his breath quickened. 

“I - I can’t-” He stammered. Hanzo moved quicker than Jesse could react. Immediately the box was gone from in front of him, slammed closed and pushed away in the farthest corner. He felt Hanzo’s arms around him, holding him closely as he felt tears start to fall onto his heaving chest.  
“It’s alright. I am here. “ Hanzo whispered. Jesse could feel his throat constricting, his hands shaking as they clutched each other, fingernails drawing blood. They stayed there for several minutes. Jesse cried until there were no more tears to give. Eventually, when his chest had stopped shaking, and his cheeks had been gently dried by Hanzo, he found the strength to speak.

“It hurts.” He whispered, his voice muffled by Hanzo’s top.

“I know.” Hanzo replied. He massaged Jesse’s back slowly, waiting patiently as he let out years of grief.

“You have been through so much, Jesse. You shouldn’t have to go through this again.”

* * *

Jesse held the box tightly. Its top was jammed back on, and if he stared into the flames in front of him, he could almost forget what he was holding in his arms. The bonfire licked at the night sky above, bathing Jesse, Hanzo and Fareeha in orange light. Jesse glanced down at the box, felt its rough edges. He looked at Hanzo, who reached out and held his shoulder.

“The past can’t hurt me anymore.” Jesse said firmly. “I’m jus’ gonna think about what’s happenin’ now. Like you.”

“I’m glad I can bring you peace.” Hanzo smiled gently. Jesse gritted his teeth, and with one quick motion, flung the box into the fire. The flames and sparks that instantly curled around it almost seemed to demand silence as they watched. Hanzo rested his head on Jesse’s shoulder and they watched as the box disappeared, consumed by the purifying blaze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;O; my boys
> 
> What Hanzo said to Ana was 'I love him. Thank you.'


	19. Beans, Birds and Beer

No nightmares. No petrifying visions of death, or agonising pain. Jesse simply slept. 

The next morning, he was slowly woken to the feeling of warm golden light pushing his eyelids up. He slowly cracked one eye open, and glanced down in confusion. He was sleeping with Hanzo? He certainly hadn’t been when he’d fallen asleep. Ah well, Hanzo must have come in during the night. As it was, Jesse was nearly smothering him, with the smaller man’s head buried in Jesse’s chest. He really should get up and dressed, but the allure of Hanzo’s warmth was too tempting. He shifted to hug Hanzo tighter - but drew away when Hanzo let out a muffled groan.

“Han?” Jesse mumbled. Hanzo shifted, hands pushing against Jesse. His eyes were still closed, but he seemed to be shaking his head. Ah. A nightmare.

“It’s alright. It’s just a dream, darlin’.” Jesse gently held his hands. Hanzo’s eyes snapped open and he gasped.

“Jesse - Jesse -” His voice was panicked. As soon as he realised Jesse was beside him, his taut shoulders slumped.

“I’m right here. Everything’s alright, sugar. Hey now, ain’t no need to cry.” Jesse sat up. Tears were rolling down Hanzo’s cheeks, like tiny crystals in the sunlight. Hanzo’s teeth were gritted.

“You were dead.” Hanzo’s voice came between laboured breaths. “Just lying there. Covered in blood. Like - like the last time you transformed. But I touched your face - and your eyes turned to me -” His hands clutched at Jesse’s.

“Hey now, none of that was real. I’m just fine, darlin’. Look. See?” Jesse cradled Hanzo’s face in his hands. He slowly drew him in and kissed him, holding him tightly. Hanzo melted into his embrace. Carefully, oh so carefully, Jesse stood up, taking Hanzo with him. Hanzo’s fingers were digging into his side almost painfully - but damn, he didn’t have the heart to ask him to stop. He looked as if he’d shatter the minute Jesse stopped touching him. Jesse slowly drew away from the kiss.

“Hows about we get you something to eat.” He suggested. Hanzo sniffled but nodded, ducking his head and wiping his puffy eyes on his arm. He slipped his hand into Jesse’s and the two walked together into the rustic kitchen.

“How does beans on toast sound?”

“I would like nothing more.” Hanzo replied quietly. Jesse nodded and yanked the drawer nearest to him open. He stuck his head into the darkness - was that salt behind the paprika?

“Good morning!” 

“Ah!” Jesse jumped at the sound of Fareeha’s voice. His head slammed into the top of the drawer, making him recoil in pain. Fareeha snorted behind him. He pulled his head out to glare at her.

“Graceful as ever, big bro.” Her long hair was tied back in a ponytail, two golden clips holding a few locks back on either side of her face.

“Thanks.” Jesse grumbled, rubbing the back his head. Hanzo had found himself a seat but now stood up, as if Fareeha was some dignitary.

“Good morning.” He said. Fareeha smiled.

“So, Hanzo, what do you want for breakfast? We’ve got toast, beans, eggs…” She counted off on her fingers.

“I was about to make us some beans on toast. I’ll make you some too.” Jesse suggested. “And, Fari - do you want to do something with us today? It’s saturday, right? Why don’t we go ridin’?” 

“Sounds good!” Fareeha beamed. Hanzo seemed less pleased. At the proposal of going riding, although he clearly tried to hide it, his (still slightly red) face caved in on itself, features crunching into a look of unbridled horror.

“Ever been riding?” Jesse asked quickly. Hanzo looked like he might vomit.

“I am… Not a fan of horses.” He muttered. “I would much rather take some time alone to enjoy the scenery.”

“Are you sure? They’re the neighbours mares, an’ he knows how to treat them right, so they’re real gentle. Zahra is very calm, if you’re a first time rider.” Fareeha said. 

“No thank you.” Hanzo replied firmly. “But please do not let me make you miss this opportunity.”

“Well, if you’re alright with that, sugar.” Jesse replied, uncertain. He pulled open another drawer and grinned at the sight of a can of baked beans.

“Alright, gourmet baked beans comin’ up!”

* * *

“Wolves? Shit, that was brave of you.” Fareeha said. She gently spurred her dun horse forward, bringing it in line with Jesse’s bigger paint horse.

“Naw, I was just drunk an’ stupid.” Jesse replied with a smile. The track that they rode on was gentle, nestled in the natural curve between two hills, and Jesse hardly needed to think about the horse he was on as he talked to Fareeha.

“But one of them bit me. So Hanzo dragged me over to this lady Angela, and she patched me right up.” He continued. “I don’t really know how it happened, but soon I was working alongside Hanzo at this little cafe. An’ then one day I’d been busted up a bit - ah, the area has a bit of a gang problem - an’ Hanzo just, sort of… Kissed me.” He mumbled, a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“Aww, cute.” Fareeha cooed. “Wait, a gang problem? Are you getting into gang trouble again?” 

“No! No, nothin’ like that.” Jesse said quickly. “You think I was gonna join another gang after all my time down here? I was just, um. You know, wrong place, wrong time. But it turned out alright because I found out Hanzo liked me, an’ I realised I liked him too, an’ here we are.” He shrugged slightly. He wished he could tell Fareeha what had really happened. He could imagine her surprise, disbelief, amazement. Her big brother, a werewolf? 

“Surely there’s more to it than that.” Fareeha replied. “What made you come down here?”

Jesse shifted uncomfortably in his saddle. “It’s um, it’s not really my story to tell, Fari. Somethin’ happened to Hanzo - that wasn’t his fault - but we had to go somewhere else for a while.”

“Damn.” Fareeha whistled. “You’ve been getting up to a lot of shit, huh.”

“And you never used to have a mouth like a sailor.” Jesse teased.

“I’m 22! I’m allowed to swear.” She replied indignantly. “I wish I’d done something in all these years. All I’ve done is age. Nothing happens here.”

“Not even found a cute guy?” Jesse asked. Fareeha sent him a dry look.

“You’re not the only gay sibling, Jesse.” Ah. That would explain her lack of infatuation towards Hanzo. “There’s no girls my age around here.” She sighed. Jesse thought for a moment.

“Fari… Why don’t you come back to Canada with me an’ Hanzo?” He suggested. Fareeha’s head swivelled like an owl’s.

“Canada.” She echoed.

“Y’know, just for a visit. Maybe you’ll even like it. I’ve got space in my apartment for one more, an’ I think you’ll like Lena an’ Reinhardt.” Jesse continued. The excited gleam in Fareeha’s eyes told him all he needed to know.

“Is there snow where you live?” She asked. Jesse grinned and nodded.

“Yes!” Her sudden cry made the horse under her snort. 

“I love you, Jesse! Oh my god, I’m going to see snow! I can’t wait! Race you back!” She yelled, urging her horse on. Jesse grinned and pulled down his hat.

“You’re on!”

* * *

By the time they got back, both Fareeha and Jesse were covered in dirt, out of breath and grinning like idiots. As soon as they’d finished unsaddling and cleaning the horses, Jesse rushed back inside, only stopping to yank off his boots before stamping into the house. He found Hanzo reading on the couch - he closed the book and stood up as soon as Jesse barreled into the room, clearly surprised by his wild appearance.

“What’s wrong?” He asked worriedly. Jesse took off his hat and shook his head like a dog just out of the rain.

“Nothin’s wrong! Fari’s coming back with us!” Jesse nearly yelled at Hanzo in his excitement. “My family’s back together again an’ she’s coming up to Canada! She’s gonna meet everyone an’ see the cafe an’ she’s never seen snow before -” Jesse would have kept raving, but Hanzo folded his arms. The look in his eyes made Jesse’s voice peter out.

“What is it? Don’t you like her?” He tried to keep the wounded feeling out of his voice. 

“What happens next full moon with your sister around?” Hanzo challenged. “Are you going to be able to keep it a secret?”

Jesse tugged at the brim of his hat, held in his hands close to his chest. “Why should I keep it a secret? She’s family, she deserves to know.”

“I don’t think that’s safe.” Hanzo replied. Jesse threw his hat on the couch, leaving his hands free to hold Hanzo’s shoulders.

“Sugar. She’s my sister. If anybody’s gonna be understandin’ of somethin’ as crazy as that, it’s gonna be her. Do you trust me, darlin’?” He implored. Hanzo sighed.  
“I trust you.” He relented. Jesse smiled and kissed him, then took a step away.

“I’d better get changed before I get you all dirty.” He said with a chuckle. “Fareeha wants to leave tomorrow morning, and I do too - ain’t much I wanted to see here except her and Ana. Do you want to do anything before we leave?”

Hanzo thought for a moment. “I would like to go for a walk with you, and see if we find an Eagle. It is important that I see one.”

“An’ why’s that?”

“Because if I do, I will kiss you.”

* * *

“What kind of bird is that?” Hanzo pointed up to the stonewashed blue sky. Jesse squinted against the sun’s glare, trying to get a better look at the speck that was circling above them.

“I think it’s a hawk.” He replied, slightly disappointed. Not only had they not seen any eagles on their walk down the same track he had ridden on earlier, but his legs were a little sore from the forgotten sensation of being on a saddle. So far, they’d seen a dove, a cormorant and a small cracked skull on the ground, but Jesse remained kiss-less. He had been holding Hanzo’s hand, but that had been quickly abandoned as their palms grew sweaty. Jesse jammed his hat down further on his head and renewed his effort to spot an eagle.

“Jesse, what is that?” Hanzo pointed again at the sky. 

“That’s jus’ a swift.” Jesse replied. To his surprise, a small kiss was planted on his cheek.

“It is not an Eagle, but it is still beautiful.” Hanzo said. Jesse could feel a blush creeping onto his face.

“Look, a roadrunner!” He pointed out to the far distance, where a long-legged bird stirred. Hanzo leaned over and this time kissed Jesse’s forehead. He chuckled and squeezed Hanzo’s hand.

“Is it really gonna take an Eagle to get a proper kiss?” He gently butted against Hanzo with his head, making the other man snort.

“I suppose I will pass for a cowboy.” Hanzo replied. His hands fell away from Jesse’s and instead laced around his neck. He leaned forwards, lips brushing Jesse’s. They kissed gently, letting the world fall away around them. Hanzo lightly bit Jesse’s lower lip and tugged at it, sending a pleased shiver down his spine.

“You’re mighty fine, darlin’.” Jesse breathed, his voice husky. His hands rested on Hanzo’s hips, not tightly - simply reaffirming that yes, he was the luckiest man in the world. After a few moments, their kissing ebbed away and they just stood there, foreheads resting against each other. He was the luckiest man in the world, wasn’t he? Nobody else got to have this infinite feeling of warm, ever-present love. Not a single other soul could hold Hanzo, or gently stroke his silky hair, or whisper sweet nothings in his ear.

“I love you so much, it damn near hurts.” Jesse mumbled, surging forwards for another kiss. Hanzo reciprocated tenderly, hands roaming across Jesse’s back.

“I love you too.”

* * *

They ended up not seeing any eagles. They did, however, stay up far too late, and even though the sun was stubbornly creeping up into the sky, Jesse could still feel the heavy tendrils of sleep trying to drag him back into unconsciousness. He made a groaning noise and shifted, his seatbelt cutting into his shoulder. He’d been pushed into the back by Fareeha calling shotgun. Now, she stood outside the car, hauling her suitcase into the open trunk.

“How much are you bringing?” Jesse’s eyes had slid closed, but he could hear Hanzo’s voice.

“Just this. Amaris know how to travel light. Isn’t that right, Jesse? Oh… Your boyfriend’s asleep.”

“Let us try to be quiet then.”

* * *

“TWENTY NINE BOTTLES OF BEER ON THE WALL, TWENTY NINE BOTTLES OF BEER, ONE FELL DOWN AND SMASHED ON THE GROUND, TWENTY EIGHT BOTTLES OF BEER ON THE WALL!” Fareeha and Jesse yelled in unison, their out of tune voices drowning out the sound of the car’s engine. Hanzo looked about to explode, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“TWENTY EIGHT BOTTLES OF BEER-”

“NO MORE!” Hanzo yelled. Fareeha giggled, her hands resting behind her head, her seat leant back. 

“Don’t bust a nerve, Han Solo.” She teased. Hanzo rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t stop the smile that grew on his face.

“You two are insufferable.” He said in a mock-uppity voice. He then glanced out the window at a sign.

“It looks like we are finally close to Tivolson. We should arrive tomorrow.” He commented. Jesse raised an eyebrow.

“Aw, an’ we were havin’ so much fun.” He said drily. He was splayed out on the backseat, seatbelt definitely not in a useful position tucked under his arm. He fished around in his pocket until he found his phone and flicked it on. It was getting late… He absent mindedly opened the calender app, then his eyes widened.

Shit. Today was a full moon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, i like, totally skipped the going-back trip. This is 50% because I thought it might be boring, and 50% because writing scenes with 3 people in them is really hard and im lazy af. So instead lets segue into more drama >:3c
> 
> By the way I cry I have no idea how inter-country travel works (i live in the middle of the ocean ;w;) so if Fareeha getting to Canada is implausible in any way I'm sorry ;u;


	20. Blood Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! This chapter contains graphic violence, and descriptions of some pretty wild stuff. You have been warned!

“Hanzo.”

“Yes?”

“Gonna be a beautiful sky tonight. Apparently there’s a full moon out.” Jesse said ‘full moon’ as pointedly as possible. Hanzo visibly tensed. Jesse glanced at his phone again - they had all of an hour before the sun started to set. Well, fuck.

“Sounds pretty.” Fareeha was staring out the window, ogling at the pine forest they were cruising through. Jesse rubbed his chin. There was no way around it; they were going to have to tell Fareeha. But more importantly, they needed to find some way of stopping Jesse from wreaking havoc on the car - and Hanzo and Fareeha.

“Uh, Fari. I think there’s, um. Somethin’ you should know.” Jesse stammered. Fareeha turned to face him. Well, wasn’t this fine as frog hair.

“What is it?” She asked curiously, craning her neck around the car seat. 

“Jesse.” Hanzo’s voice was tinged with warning. He slowed the car and swung into a side road.

“It’s alright. We gotta tell her at some point.” Jesse replied.

“Stop beating around the bush! What is it? Do you have cancer or something?” Fareeha said. Jesse shook his head vehemently. 

“Naw, it’s just, um-” His hands gestured vaguely. “Something pretty crazy happened to me.”

The car had stopped now, and Jesse glanced out the window to find they were outside an old barn-like building. It looked like nature was trying to reclaim it, with ivy growing on its grey walls.

“When I saved Hanzo from those Wolves, one of ‘em bit me. An’ now… I, um… I’m a werewolf.” Jesse stammered. Fareeha’s face went blank. She seemed to be slowly processing his words, her eyes darting from his face, to Hanzo’s, then back again. Then her mouth split into a grin.

“Ha! Alright, Jesse, pull the other one. Now why are we actually here?” She asked. Jesse swore under his breath. Hanzo slammed his car door open and stepped out.

“Jesse, we need to get you locked in that barn.” He commanded. Jesse nodded, freaking Fareeha out more.

“What are you guys doing? Is Hanzo crazy? Are we being kidnapped? Is that what’s happening?” She pushed open her own car door and stormed out. Pine needles crunched under her feet. Jesse quickly followed her out of the car.

“Naw, ain’t nothin’ like that. Please, Fari, you’ve gotta believe me.” He looked at her imploringly. Her eyes squinted in suspicion.

“Time is ticking.” Hanzo warned. Fareeha shot him a glare. 

“Don’t drop a bombshell like that on me, then tell me to hurry up!” She snapped. Her hands rose to her face and pressed against her chin in a praying gesture. 

“Holy shit. Holy shit! You’re not kidding, are you?” She breathed. Jesse scratched the back of his neck. 

“Probably should have told you sooner.” He chuckled, but trailed off at the look on Fareeha’s face.

“Wait - it’s the full moon tonight! So you’re…” She gasped. “Oh my god, you’re going to become a werewolf. Holy fucking shit.” 

“Please do not panic, Fareeha. We need to get Jesse contained in this barn as well as possible, or we may be in danger ourselves.” Hanzo said sternly. The levity of the situation had removed any trace of friendliness from him, instead replaced by a stern authority that Jesse was grateful for.

“He’s right. Please, Fari, we ain’t got much time.” He added. Fareeha took a deep breath, clearly shaken.

“Holy shit. Alright. Okay, let’s do this. Oh my god. This is incredible.” 

“I know. I didn’t believe it myself at first.” Jesse replied. He glanced up at the barn. It was framed on all sides by tall pine trees, creating a halo of visible sky over the building. It was easily tall enough to have two stories, and the only entrance he could see was a small door off to the side. It had a few square windows, but they were far too dirty to see through. Hanzo walked to the door and tried the handle.

“It’s locked.” He announced. Fareeha snorted. She deftly removed one of the clips in her hair and popped it open. She trotted over to the door, and immediately began prying at the lock with the clip. _Click._

“Not anymore.” She replied, a little bit of smugness in her voice. Jesse raised his eyebrows.

“I’ll overlook how worrying it is that you know that, an’ just say good job.” He said. Fareeha winked, and pushed the door open.

“This place looks like it’s been abandoned for years.” Her voice echoed, her whole head poked into the dark barn. Perfect, then they wouldn’t have any unwelcome visitors. The three hesitantly walked into the dark room. It looked like it had been full of machinery once, but had been gutted to leave only the husk of the room. The floor was uneven timber, the roof too dark to see. There were a few pieces of broken furniture scattered about, but other than that it was empty.

“It’s perfect.” Jesse commented. Hanzo nodded. 

“Is it really going to keep you in?” Fareeha asked uncertainly. Jesse made a noise of noncommittal.

“Hopefully. Maybe we should, y’know, tie me up or somethin’.” He suggested. “Last time this happened, I hurt myself pretty badly.”

Hanzo nodded, and immediately started to search the room. Fareeha shifted closer to Jesse, grabbing his arm.

“Jesse, this is insane. Insane! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” She hissed. 

“I didn’t know how you were gonna react! What if you’d flipped yer shit an’ called the cops?” He protested. She tilted her head in agreement, then looked around the room. 

“Holy shit, Jesse. Is Hanzo a werewolf too?” 

“Naw. He’s, uh… He ain’t a werewolf.” He cut himself off sharply - if Hanzo wanted Fareeha to know what he was, that was his story to tell. Hanzo trotted back with a length of rope hanging from his hand. Fareeha grinned.

“Alright, big bro, let’s truss you up like a turkey!”

* * *

“It’s almost time. We have to go.” Fareeha said, staring out the grimy window at the sky above. Jesse nodded. He was tied to one of the wooden poles stretching to the roof, barely able to even wriggle. His legs were stuck out in front of him, and he wiggled them idly.

“I am sorry to leave you like this.” Hanzo murmured, sitting next to Jesse in his usual tense stance. Jesse smiled.

“Naw, it’s alright, darlin’. I’m jus’ happy knowing that you an’ Fareeha will be safe.” That was partly a lie. He was happy knowing they would be safe - but it was absolutely not alright. If he was going to be honest with himself, he was terrified. Last time he’d transformed, it had been painful and scary. And this time - well, the weather forecast no clouds and a ‘strikingly bright moon’. That didn’t sound like it would help the situation, to say the least.

“Now you n’ Fareeha mosey on out of here. Oh, an’ can you take my hat? I don’t want to wake up tomorrow an’ find it in two pieces.” He bobbed his head, leaning towards Hanzo. He felt his hat gently being lifted off his head, then a kissed being planted on his forehead.

“I love you. I love you so much.” Hanzo murmured. He kissed Jesse on the lips, then stroked his cheek. “Please be safe.” He withdrew, and stood up. Jesse tried to wave, momentarily forgetting the ropes that bound him. 

“Good luck!” Fareeha yelled from the door. Hanzo gave Jesse one last sad glance, then joined her at the door. 

_Slam!_

It was just him and the barn. If he craned his neck, he could see a sliver of the world outside through the nearest window. It was getting dark. He started to sing quietly.

 _“In the shadow of the valley_  
_I would like to settle down_  
_Wide open space_  
_Wind on my face”_

He started the next line, but broke off halfway through. Oh god, it was starting. He could feel it. His head felt like it was going to explode, his skin was on fire. He tried to call out for Hanzo, but only a garbled moan escaped his lips. He was in agony. His blood was boiling, his fingernails extending painfully. 

“H-Hanthoh!” He croaked out. His teeth were sharpening, already cutting the inside of his mouth to shreds. He felt wild, savage, angry,

Hungry.

He must have blacked out at some point, because when he opened his eyes again the world was dark. That didn’t matter though, because he could smell every minute scent that rested in the air. The most overpowering stench was the smell of his own blood, frothing in his mouth. He could smell something else. Food. Breaking the ropes wasn’t easy, but he finally snapped them apart - but not until they’d dug into his skin enough to make him howl. He was starving. He strode to the nearest wall and slammed himself against it. The food was behind this. Or was it? He was seeing red, barely able to think. There was a delicious smell coming from close to him. In fact, it was right next to him. He took a suspicious bite of the tender flesh. It was delicious.

* * *

“Oh my fucking god. Oh my god. Oh my god!” 

“Use my phone! Call Angela!” There were two familiar voices near him. Jesse wanted to open his eyes, but they were so heavy that he found he couldn’t. He groaned, only now becoming aware of the agonising pain all over him.

“Jesse. Jesse, I need you to stay awake. Can you open your eyes?” There was that voice again. Jesse forced his eyes open. The light was painful, and it took his eyes a moment to adjust. He was being carried in someone’s arms. Was somebody screaming? His ears were ringing too much to tell. Oh, it was him. He was screaming. And writhing in pain.

“Get him in the back seat. Can you drive?”

“Yeah. Angela says she can meet us halfway. That way the trip should only take an hour.”

“Jesse might not have an hour!” The deeper voice was panicking, he could tell that much. Jesse discovered that his throat was too sore to scream any more. He was being placed on something soft, but even the squishy texture under him was enough to send another ripple of pain through him. His eyes finally adjusted. He was in the back of the car, but it was covered in blood. As he glanced down, he realised so was he.

“Jesse. Look at me. How many fingers am I holding up?” He stared blankly at Hanzo. How many fingers was he holding up? He curled over and started to sob.

“Fareeha, drive!” Hanzo was taking off his shirt. Jesse felt it being pressed against his elbow. That was kind of strange, because it was being pushed against where his arm should be. Oh. Oh god.

“Hanzo!” He finally managed to gasp out a word. He was shaking.

“Breathe. I am here, I am right here. Oh god, Jesse. Oh god.” Hanzo was crying. 

“Don’ - don’ cry, Han.” Jesse rasped. He reached up touch his cheek - or, he would have. He nearly vomited when he saw the stump that used to be his left arm.

“Shh. Don’t speak, it’s alright.” Hanzo held him close. Jesse couldn’t focus on anything except the searing pain. He knew Hanzo had told him to stay awake, but everything hurt so much… Maybe if he closed his eyes, it would all go away…

* * *

Jesse wouldn’t have been surprised if he had died. As it was, when he woke up, he almost wished he had. Every inch of him burned, as if his skin was stretched too tight. His eyes snapped open too fast, making him wince.

“Jesse. It is Angela. Can you focus on my voice?” A soothing voice calmed Jesse slightly. He stared at the woman in front of him.

“Ange…” He glanced down at himself. He was covered in bandages and blood. He risked a look at his arm. A wave of nausea washed over him.

“Where’s… Where’s my arm?” He looked back at Angela with wide eyes. He seemed to be leant against the side of a car, sitting on tarmac.

“I don’t know, Jesse. Can you tell me where you live?”

“Fifty-seven North street…” Jesse glanced around in confusion. His arm couldn’t be gone. No, that couldn’t be right. A memory started to tug at his mind. A memory of biting into flesh. Oh no. No, no, no, no. He vomited.

“Hanzo, pass me my briefcase, he needs a sedative.”

“H-Hanzo… Is he alright? Fari…”

“They are fine. I’m sorry, Jesse. I’m so sorry this happened.”

“Ain’t’cher fault.” Jesse mumbled. He felt a needle plunging into him. The last thing he saw before he drifted into unconsciousness was Hanzo's worried face above him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry Jesse ;u;
> 
> So, he's finally lost an arm like in canon ;w; Why do I love putting my boys through so much angst?? I'm sorry for this chapter I promise there will be so much hurt/comfort and fluff to make up for this


	21. Rest at last

_He was standing in a desert. All around him, dry earth crept out towards the horizon, completely flat and unbroken. It was a sickly shade of beige. The sky wasn’t normal either. It was orange, a painful, vibrant orange that - while it wasn’t really moving - felt like it was dangerously close to falling and crushing him. The thought made him shiver. He looked down at himself. No shadow extended from his boots._

_“Whose fault is this?” A voice seemed to come from all directions at once. Jesse spun on his heel, looking over his shoulder in an attempt to see where the voice had emanated from. There was nobody around him._

_“Is it your fault?” It was so close to him. So close he could touch it. He picked a point on the flat horizon and started to walk._

_“I think it is. They’re suffering.” The voice continued. Where was his hat? There was no sun in the blood orange sky, but his eyes still felt attacked by light. He closed his eyes against the pain._

_“They all hurt. Inside, you see. Bleeding. Mourning, Mourning,_

“Morning.” The voice was no longer everywhere. Now it was simply by his side. Jesse gently opened his eyes, breathing in sharply as they burned at the feeling.

“It’s alright, please don’t try to sit up.” That familiar voice spoke again. Feminine, formal, slightly worried - it must be Angela. 

“S’you, Ange?” Jesse crushed his eyes closed then forced them open again. He was in a familiar bed - the same bed he’d woken up in one month ago, after he’d transformed. He must be in Angela’s house then. The aforementioned was standing over him, clipping something to what looked like a coat rack next to the bed. After a moment his eyes focused and he realised it was an IV drip.

“Wher’ d’ja git that?” He slurred. There was a definite sting in his mouth which he deduced was from the countless cuts he felt on the insides of his gums.

“Jesse, please, you need to relax.” Angela insisted quietly. “You’ve been through so much - what you need now is rest.”

Jesse tried to shift but stopped instantly, groaning at the pain that rippled through his body. From the murky haze in his mind, a blinding memory seared through him.

“Ange, m’ arm-” He looked at her with wide eyes. She sighed, hands falling from the drip and instead wringing themselves together.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Jesse. There was nothing I could do.” She glanced away from him. “Please try and get some sleep. I’ll see if I can make you something to eat.” She bustled out of the room, wings brushing the doorframe. Jesse’s head rolled back onto the soft pillow and he groaned. He felt like shit, he probably looked like shit - everything about this situation was just a load of shit. He felt like he should be panicking, or crying, but he just felt… Well, like shit. His eyes slid to the right - oh, Hanzo was sitting next to him. He looked fast asleep, head resting against his closed hand. Jesse slowly inched his right arm out from under the white covers and reached out to touch him.

“Hanzo, Han, sugar.” He mumbled - his mouth still seemed to be refusing to work properly. He mused that it probably had to do with whatever drug was stopping him from being in agonising pain. He gently poked Hanzo’s arm. “Sweetheart. Han.”

“Mm.” Hanzo snorted, his head jerked up as he woke with a start. “What is it?” He blinked, then looked at Jesse.

“S’ me, Han.” Jesse smiled weakly at him. Hanzo’s eyes widened. 

“Jesse!” His voice sounded relieved and overjoyed. He reached over and - as gently as one would pick up a kitten - guided Jesse’s hand into his own. 

“How long’ve I b’n asleep?” Jesse asked. To his relief, Hanzo didn’t look injured; the only noticeable thing about him were the rings of darkness underneath his eyes.

“Three days.” Hanzo murmured. “You’ve woken up a few times before, but you were in so much pain - Angela had to sedate you…” Hanzo looked like he was fighting down tears, taking a deep inhale of breath and biting his lip. Jesse wanted to hold him so badly it hurt.

“C’mere.” He shifted a little closer to him. Hanzo obligingly left his chair and instead knelt beside the bed, his head level with Jesse’s. He looked at Jesse worriedly - god, the sorrow in his eyes made Jesse feel terrible.

“Didn’ go so well, huh.” He tried to sound lighthearted. “Maybe nex’ time we should use chains. Han?” Tears were starting to journey down Hanzo’s face.

“Sugar, don’ cry.” Jesse could feel tears welling in his own eyes. “Everythin’s alright.” He leant forward as much as he could, and placed a tender kiss on Hanzo’s wet cheek. 

“I was so scared for you.” Hanzo fought back another wave of tears. “I was afraid that you might - you might -” A sob broke off the rest of his sentence.

“Please don’ cry, Han. I love you, an’ I’m right here.” Jesse wished he could muster the strength to wipe his tears away, to hold him in his arms (arm),to love away all of his worries. As it was, he could only hold his hand, and hope Hanzo knew just how much he loved him. Through his tears, Hanzo smiled a little.

“I’m so glad you’re alright.” He sniffled. 

“Gonna take more ‘n that to keep me down.” Jesse replied with a soft chuckle. His eyes were threatening to slide closed again.

“You should sleep.” Hanzo gently guided his hand to rest on the bed, and stroked his hair. “I will be right here with you.” 

Jesse wanted to stay awake, to be with Hanzo, but his body had other plans. His eyes slowly closed, and he felt a kiss on his cheek, making his heart swell. Despite all this - all the worry, all the pain, all the fear - despite it all, he was absolutely sure he was the luckiest man in the world.

* * *

He didn’t know how long he slept. Thank god, the bloated orange sky didn’t return - sleep was simply inky blackness. When he woke up, he found Hanzo reading a book. 

“Morning, sugar.” Jesse yawned. He still felt a bit like shit, but the pain had lessened and his mouth no longer felt stuffed with cotton. Hanzo looked up from his book and smiled.

“It is evening.” He replied. Had Hanzo been here this whole time? Jesse tentatively wriggled himself into an upright position. He glanced down at his hands (hand) and couldn’t help but look away in repulsion. He still couldn’t believe his arm was gone. He figured the shock would hit later, so why worry about it now?

“Sugar, where’s Fareeha?” He asked. Hanzo slipped a bookmark into his novel and placed it aside. 

“She went out shopping with Angela. I think she may be experiencing affection for her.” Hanzo mused. Jesse chuckled, causing an aching pain to tingle down his back. He was starting to feel cooped up in the bed; after being in a car for so long, being bedridden felt like torture.

“I need t’ get out of this bed before I start meldin’ into it.” He grunted. The look on Hanzo’s face clearly read ‘Oh no you don’t’, which made Jesse even more determined. Like a fly trapped in a spider’s web, he started to clumsily extract himself from the covers. 

“You have suffered from severe blood loss, lacerations and god knows what else! You need to stay in bed!” Hanzo protested. Jesse didn’t stop his assault on the sheets constraining him.

“Please, Hanzo. Just sit at the table with me an’ do a crossword or somethin’. I’m alright now, I’m awake an’ I want to do somethin’ with you.” He pleaded. Hanzo sighed.

“Do not over exert yourself. Here.” He started to help Jesse get out of bed, and slung his arm over his shoulder to help him stand. Shit - gravity was out in full force today. He nearly toppled over, only caught by Hanzo’s grip on his shoulder. He hissed at the pain, but resolutely started to stagger forwards. Hanzo dragged the IV drip behind him. It took them a solid minute, but Jesse had finally shuffled to Angela’s table. He exhaled as he slumped into it. Hanzo sat down next to him - and Jesse noticed that he didn’t look tense at all. Jesse - with some difficulty - leant over the table and grabbed the folded newspaper sitting on it. He opened it and flicked through until he reached the crosswords.

“Sports venue, five letters.”

“Arena.”

“Alright… Five letters again, forbidden.”

“Hm.. Illegal? No. Taboo?”

“You got it. Eight letter word for affection?”

“I love you.”

“Naw, that ain’t one word.” Jesse mumbled absently. After a moment, what Hanzo said clicked. He looked up to see Hanzo blushing and looking rather miffed. 

“Oh…” Jesse breathed. He smiled sheepishly, “I love you too, darlin’.” He leant over and gently took Hanzo’s lips in his. It hurt a little, but the way it soothed his heart more than made up for it. He felt like he was flying, skimming clouds when Hanzo oh-so-carefully surged forward and pressed against him. Jesse was so engrossed in the goddamn heaven that was Hanzo’s kiss that he didn’t even notice the apartment’s door opening.

“Evening, you two.” Fareeha’s voice made Jesse jump. He jerked away from Hanzo and stared at Fareeha, a blush hot on his cheeks. Fareeha and Angela were peeking around the door frame, and they both giggled. Hanzo was also blushing furiously.

“Good evening.” He stammered up, sitting ramrod straight in his seat. Fareeha giggled again and strolled into the room.

“I see you’re feeling better, Jesse.” She said teasingly. Her face grew a little more serious. “How are you feeling?”

“Well, I’ve certainly been better.” Jesse replied drily. He risked a glance down at his bandaged left arm (could he really still call it an arm anymore?) then hurriedly looked away. Best to ride out whatever calming drug was still lingering in his body and leave the panicking for later. “How have you been faring? What’ve you been doin’ all the time I’ve been snoozing?”

“I’ve been crashing at Hanzo’s.” She replied. “Since mr. lovebird over here refused to leave your side -” Hanzo’s blush deepened - “I’ve basically had the place to myself. Which I’m, like, super grateful for. Oh, and I wandered past the Gibralter, but I was too nervous to go in.” She lamented.

“That’s alright. Let’s all go down there together soon.” Jesse replied. Hanzo cast him a stern look.

“I do not think so. You are in no state to go that far.” He said. Jesse rolled his eyes.

“I agree.” Angela chimed in. In her arms was a gigantic round bundle of newspaper, which she plopped on the table unceremoniously. “What you need right now is rest, recuperation - and comfort food.”

The hot smell of salty fish and chips hit Jesse like a comforting wave. Only now did he realise how goddamn hungry he was. It took all of his power of will not to reach over and grab a handful of whatever was closest, but he fought off the urge. Instead, he waited patiently as Angela meticulously handed everyone a plate, and started to dole out the steaming meal. 

_“Itadakimasu.”_ Hanzo said somberly, then promptly started to stuff himself with chips, evidently just as hungry as Jesse. Fareeha started to chat about something with Fareeha, but Jesse was busy trying to work out how to deal with the fish in front of him. He gingerly picked up his fork and tried to cut it with the side, but it kept slipping out of his grasp without a knife to anchor it. His left arm rose, faltered, then fell, and he was about to abandon the task when Hanzo delicately plucked the fish off his plate.

“Hey, that’s mine!” Jesse protested. Hanzo cast him a dry look, and started to cut the fish into pieces. Once the job was finished, he pushed them back onto Jesse’s plate, who rolled his eyes but smiled gratefully.

“Oh my god, you two are _disgustingly_ cute.” Fareeha said with a laugh. Hanzo huffed defensively.

“He simply required assistance.” He said not at all convincingly. Angela clearly tried not to, but couldn’t help a laugh slipping out.

“It’s very sweet.” She chuckled. Jesse joined in, a bubble of laughter rising out of him.

“Shucks, we are pretty damn cute.” He laughed. Hanzo was growing redder by the minute, much to his amusement. Finally Hanzo gave in and smiled.

“I suppose we are.” He admitted. Jesse was about to reply but his stomach grumbled loudly.

“Better feed the beast.” He announced, spiking a piece of now-cut fish. He glanced at Fareeha, and found she was stealing glances at Angela as she ate. Hmm, maybe Hanzo was right about her and Angela. As he glanced around the table, and the comforting scent of fish and chips wrapped around him, it hit him. All the people around him - all of them were family. After all these years, he finally had a family all together again. He smiled and took another bite of fish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt bad about the staggering amount of angst in the last chapter, so please accept my apology in the form of extreme fluffyness!!! Finally my children get to have some family time ;w; I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!
> 
> That lil crossword interaction is inspired by a super cute comic by https://paint-taster.tumblr.com/ !! It's super cute and so is the rest of their art <3 <3 so maybe check them out and give them some love?


	22. Replacements required (but not wanted)

“To disturb, nine letters.”

“Um... Seven, eight, nine… Interfere?”

“It ends with a T.”

“Hmm… Interrupt?”

“It fits.” Hanzo announced. The morning newspaper was splayed out in front of him on the coffee table, edges curling off the sides with nothing to prop them up. A pen was twirling lazily in Hanzo’s hand, its blue plastic dull in the dim room. How many crosswords had they done? Jesse couldn’t count. Over the past few days, they’d done crossword after crossword, even taking newspapers out of Angela’s recycling when they’d run out of recent ones. It was the perfect thing to do when Jesse was awake enough to join Hanzo; he didn’t have to move, it stopped him from feeling restless and between them, they knew just about every answer.

“To chew cud, eight letters.”

“There’s a word for that?” Jesse asked curiously. “Never really gave it much thought.” He leant over Hanzo’s shoulder - every day his range of movement was increasing to the point where most things weren’t painful - and glanced at the half finished crossword. The monochrome grid stared back at him, asking to be completed. 

“We can come back to it later.” Hanzo suggested. Jesse nodded, his gaze dropping to the list of words. He couldn’t work out that one, either. Growing disinterested, he leant back into his seat next to Hanzo. His eyes trailed to his boyfriend. Damn, if Hanzo hadn’t changed a lot in the time he’d known him. Memories of Hanzo’s cold attitude towards him when they’d first met made him smile. He much preferred the Hanzo that was warm and caring, that liked holding his hand, that didn’t mind doing endless puzzles with his temporarily benched boyfriend. 

“Written statement confirmed by oath in court.” Hanzo read the next question aloud. Jesse found he couldn’t concentrate on the question, enjoying looking at Hanzo too much. He was wearing one of Jesse’s shirts again, an old work shirt with ‘RODEO KING’ emblazoned on the front. It showed off his arms almost too perfectly. He glanced down and chuckled a little as he realised he was wearing one of Hanzo’s tops. At this point all their clothes were just one big hodge podge of sharing.

“What is it?” Hanzo turned to look at him.

“I was jus’ thinking about how much I love you.” Jesse purred. He extended his arm and - grunting with the effort - slung his arm around Hanzo’s shoulder. The gentle blush on Hanzo’s high cheekbones made Jesse’s heart melt.

“I can’t thank you enough neither, darlin’. You’ve been all cooped up in here before n’ after work takin’ care of me for days, an’ all I can do is sit around with you.” He nuzzled into Hanzo’s shoulder. “I sure do appreciate you, Han.” 

“Do not talk of yourself as a burden.” Hanzo replied, running a hand over Jesse’s hair and leaving it cradling the nape of his neck. “I have enjoyed these days immensely.”

“I’m glad.” Jesse mumbled. He shifted until he was leaning against Hanzo comfortably - well, as comfortably as he could. His body still felt sore, but it sort of felt normal by now. Even the sharp pain in his arm had ebbed. It had made him cry yesterday, heaving sobs that wracked his trembling body. He decided not to think about that. His heavy eyelids started to slide closed. He was drifting into peaceful sleep, sinking into a black carpet that caressed his aching limbs. A kind nothingness…

“Hello, you two.” He took a moment to pry his eyes open. Around him, the shadows had shifted and stretched, dyed a sleepy brown. The newspaper had been folded and put aside. Standing in the lounge room was Angela, in the process of shaking her wings free, and a kid Jesse recognised holding a large white box. He slowly sat up on the couch.

“Howdy.” Jesse yawned. He examined the teenager standing next to Angela. Thick dreadlocks were swept back into a ponytail above a dark face that was clearly just discovering puberty. The kid was short, looking at Jesse with apprehension, and wearing purple headphones around his neck. Ah, right, the kid he’d helped out the back of Angela’s apartment. The kid was looking at him in nervous awe. Jesse glanced at Hanzo, who was still asleep. He poked his side.

“Get up, Han.” He poked again. Hanzo woke with a slight huff, his eyelids snapping open. After a moment of confusion his gaze fixed on Angela and he sat up straight. 

“Good evening, Angela.” He said solemnly. He then looked at the short kid, who looked absolutely amazed at this point. 

“This is Lúcio. Lúcio, this is Jesse and Hanzo. I believe I mentioned them yesterday.” Angela said with a smile. Jesse grinned and waved. Lúcio gawked at him. Then, after a moment, his face split into a gleaming smile.

“Oh yeah, the guy with the missing - I mean, the guy that helped me out. Thanks for saving me, mister. And um, nice to meet you.” Lúcio waved awkwardly. “I’m helping out Angela with some stuff.” He explained, glancing around the room. Hanzo stood up and started to walk towards her kitchen.

“I will put on some tea.” He suggested. Angela nodded, following him in. Lúcio looked at Jesse again nervously, then thrust the box towards him. 

“This for you. I didn’t really get it, Miss Angela did, but you saved me that time a while ago and I’m really grateful.” He looked at Jesse expectantly. He smiled and took the box, resting it in his lap.

“Thanks, kid. So what crazy thing’s up with you?” He asked. Lúcio plopped himself down onto the couch next to him, where Hanzo had been sitting. A phone was fished out of his pocket - a green case was slipped onto it, with a small image of a frog in the middle. He tapped on it furiously then handed it to Jesse. A quiet tune started to float out of it. It sounded like beatboxing with electronic music over it. It made Jesse feel strangely relaxed despite the upbeat tone.

“Angela says I’m a siren. Pretty cool, right? But, like, my music helps people. It makes them feel happy and stuff.” Lúcio explained excitedly. Jesse nodded, finding himself bobbing his head slightly to the rhythm. 

“Like, my friend Hana was feeling really stink because her 3DS broke, but my music made her feel loads better.” He continued. “What are you?”

“A werewolf.” Jesse replied. “Ain’t as much sunshine an’ roses as what you’ve got here, but I make do.”

Lúcio bit his lip, clearly itching to ask about his arm. Thankfully, etiquette got the better of him.

“Well, it was cool meeting you. Angela’s making me have tests and stuff done on my voice, so I should probably go talk to her about it.” He hopped - quite literally - off the sofa.

“I should probably get goin’ too.” Jesse said suddenly. He wasn’t sure where it had come from, but he was certain. He could make it home. If not home, surely Hanzo’s place. He’d surely overstayed his welcome moping around at Angela’s. He swung himself forward a little to give his ascent some momentum, then forced his body off the couch. He was instantly beset by pain in every limb, but he gritted his teeth and powered through it.

“Jesse, what are you doing?” Hanzo stormed out of the kitchen like a hurricane of worry. He was instantly by his side, hands hovering, ready to support him if he faltered. Angela followed behind him, still stirring a steaming cup.

“I’m fine, Han. Stop motherin’ me.” Jesse replied not unkindly. 

“Is that a lizard on your arm?” Lúcio asked curiously. Hanzo shot him an annoyed look.

“It is a dragon.” He replied coldly. Lúcio’s eyes grew in amazement.

“Awesome.” He breathed.

“We’ve inconvenienced Angela long enough.” Jesse announced. “I can at least make it back to my apartment, darlin’. Look, see? Ain’t even pitchin’ forwards like I was yesterday. Pretty sure I could even walk in a straight line if I tried.”

The joke was lost on Hanzo. His worried face pinched a little more.

“If you are certain…” He said uneasily. Jesse stood up as straight as he could - start to wobble - and hunched himself over again. 

“Sure as can be.” He replied. Angela sighed.

“If you insist, please take some painkillers with you. I’ll give you some bandages as well that you’ll need to replace daily, and of course you must remember to take your pills…”

* * *

By the time Angela was done with them, Hanzo was laden like a pack mule. A plastic tub was gripped in his arms, the white box Lúcio had given them was perched on top and a backpack of Jesse’s belongings was slung over his shoulder. Jesse had offered to carry at least the backpack - a little black kanken, courtesy of Fareeha - but had been waved off resolutely every time. Now, one short bus ride and five (secretly agonising) minutes of walking later, they were in Jesse’s apartment. Jesse exhaled deeply, trying to subdue the urge to collapse on the floor. Instead he forced his body to move towards the nearest chair - the sofa, which he flopped into unceremoniously.

“My everything hurts.” He grumbled. Hanzo sent him a dry look.

“This was your decision.” He shot back. Jesse grunted something under his breath, shifting his body to get more comfortable. He’d got some strange looks on the bus ride home. He figured it must be from his arm. His eyes wandered down, flickering away every so often as if repelled from looking at the left side of his body. He looked at the bandaged stump. His stomach instantly felt like it was churning. How could this be real? You didn’t just lose your arm. That just didn’t _happen._

“Jesse. Did you hear me? What do you want for dinner?” Hanzo’s voice cut through his thoughts. He looked up with a start.

“I, uh. I don’t really mind.” He replied. He hadn’t been eating much recently anyway. A sigh floated to his ear, then the sounds of Hanzo pottering in his kitchen. He wouldn’t find much - he’d cleared out anything perishable before the trip, so all that was left were cans, noodles and other probably unhealthy things. Unable to glance again at his arm, Jesse’s gaze trailed over the pile of boxes, which now sat at the foot of the couch. Leaning over to pick up the white box was a struggle, but he finally clutched it between his hand and pulled it onto his lap.

“That kid Lúcio gave me this box.” He called to Hanzo. “Apparently it’s actually from Angela, though, so i’m expectin’ it to just be pills.” A quiet chuckle from behind him. It took some wiggling, but he finally wrenched the top off. Sitting in a sea of protective foam, leering at him with a grin of balefully shining metal, was an arm. His breath caught in his throat. 

“What is it?” Hanzo’s voice was coming closer. Jesse tried to speak but found he couldn’t. The sleek metal prosthetic in front of him seemed to add weight to reality. It was settling like a stone in his stomach.

“Oh. This is too kind... Where did they get this?” Hanzo’s arm rested on Jesse’s shoulder gently. A horrible urge to throw the arm as far away from himself as he could gripped Jesse, but he fought it down. Instead he managed a weak shrugging gesture. He had lost his arm. It was gone, it wasn’t coming back, and this terminator-esque piece of metal was supposed to replace it. He felt like vomiting. Hanzo reached over him and plucked a piece of paper from the box.

“Apparently Angela has a friend called Torbjörn who specialises in robotics and designs prosthetics. How fortunate…” Hanzo mused. 

“Too kind.” Jesse echoed quietly. He was entranced by the arm, repulsed and fascinated by it all at once. Its gleaming fingers seemed capable of moving, coloured a chromy silver. He shivered at the thought of their cold touch.

* * *

“Fareeha loves Canada.” Hanzo said. He calmly dissected a fish finger into segments, knife winking as it caught the gleam of the light above. “Ever since I gave her my phone number, she has been texting me constantly. Although she does not often get a reply… She says she is waiting for you to get better so that you two can go into the cafe together.” 

“Shouldn’t be long now.” Jesse mumbled halfheartedly. The fish fingers and steamed vegetables on his plate were untouched. 

“I think she is enthused with the idea of staying here.” Hanzo continued. Jesse made a noise that he hoped sounded interested. Not that he wasn’t interested; he was just distracted. He couldn’t stop thinking about the weightlessness of his arm, of the gleaming metal arm. 

“Are you feeling well?” Hanzo asked, looking at Jesse with concern. “You haven’t touched your food. I know it isn’t very nice, but it is all you had…”

Jesse smiled weakly. “I’m just peachy, sunshine.” He insisted. He looked at the meal in front of him. A hesitant arm brought a forkful of crumbed fish to his mouth.

 _Hungry hungry hungry_  
_(food?)_  
 _Tearing flesh, ripping meat from bone, the disgusting flavour flooding his senses but he couldn’t get enough_  
 _Blood dripping down his chin_

“Jesse!” Hanzo’s voice was faint. Jesse retched, the fish falling to the plate. His breath was coming in short gasps. Arms were touching him - he doubled over - he was crying. His trembling body convulsed with every shaky breath.

“I ate it.” He rasped. “My - my arm. I ate it.” He felt another wave of sick dread.

“Oh my god. Jesse…” Hanzo breathed. Jesse vomited. Whatever happened next was a blur. He only remembered Hanzo’s arms holding him, rubbing his back as he cried. This was hell. This must be. Each ragged breath made pain blossom in his chest. He must have fainted, because the next thing he knew he was in Hanzo’s arms, held bridal style, head lolled back. He was gently placed on the side of his bed. Hanzo sat next to him and held him closely.

“It is alright. I am here.” His voice was so kind, so caring. Jesse didn’t deserve this. He was a monster. He took another desperate gulp of breath.

“I’m - I’m not worth you.” He managed to mumble. 

“No, that is not true. None of this is your fault. Please, never blame yourself. And know that I will never blame you. No matter what happens, I will be here for you.”

Jesse leant into his embrace. Hanzo was wrong, of course - this was his fault. He should have been able to control it. How could he have been so stupid? Now here he was, shaking and unable to eat even a morsel. Slowly, his trembling subdued.

“Let’s get you ready for bed, darling.” Hanzo said quietly. Was that the first time Hanzo had called him a pet name? Jesse detachedly thought that was sweet. He felt his shirt, damp with cold sweat, slowly being lifted up. He mindlessly helped Hanzo through the motions of undress, then redress. His hair hung in front of his face like a veil. He was thankful for it. He was sure Hanzo’s worried eyes would make him feel guilty enough to retch again. He felt a familiar urge to clench a cigarette between his teeth. His head was gently guided to Hanzo’s lap. His hair was gently stroked. Everything was done so gently, so kindly. He surely didn’t deserve this love. His eyes shut slowly. At least he knew that when he woke, he would be by Hanzo’s side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop and here comes the angst rearing its ugly head again ;w;
> 
> Thank you again to everybody reading this fic - it makes me so happy knowing that people appreciate my writing! <3 <3


	23. Back at the cafe

“Are you ready?” Hanzo's voice asked. Jesse was gingerly shrugging on a jacket. 

“Almost.” He grunted in reply. The morning had gone slowly. He’d woken at 10, still tired, but now also disoriented and heavy. Hanzo’s gentle touch had shrugged him awake, murmuring of croissants and coffee. The coffee he had sipped at; the croissant had lain untouched on its plate. Breakfast had been a silent affair. Now he was ten minutes into the harrowing process of getting dressed for the day. He had waved off Hanzo’s offer to help - a decision he regretted. The torment that was buttoning his trousers with one hand would have likely brought him to frustrated tears had it not been for his intense exhaustion. Now, Hanzo was softly rapping on the bedroom door.

“Fareeha is here.” His voice was muffled through the wooden door. Jesse grunted again. The remainder of his left arm rubbed painfully against the jacket’s fabric and he had to bite his lip to stop himself from crying out. He shifted his shoulder - thank god, his arm finally slipped into the sleeve. He started to walk towards the door. On the way, he passed the small mirror on his dressing table. There was a cut on his eyebrow, a red bruise marring his cheek. His beard was ragged and longer than he liked, as was his hair. He looked every bit the beast. The thought made him shudder. He pushed open the door and found Hanzo waiting outside.

“I’m ready.” He mumbled needlessly. Hanzo seemed about to say something, but simply nodded in response. He looked tired, too; his silky hair was loose from its usual ponytail, his undereye was determinedly engraved on his face, and although he stood upright, his shoulders were slightly hunched. That was Jesse’s fault. He was causing that. They started to walk towards the lounge. 

“Are you certain that you are ready?” Hanzo asked, his voice soft. Jesse nodded. Of course not. But he had to be, didn’t he.

“Jesse!” Fareeha was on the couch when they walked in, but she instantly jumped to her feet when she saw Jesse. Her face scrunched into a look of sympathy, then worry, then relief.

“I’m so glad you’re okay.” She trotted over to them. “I mean - shit, I guess you aren’t really - but I’m glad my big brother’s alive and kicking. Can you like, get to the cafe? I don’t mind waiting a little while longer.”

“I’m fine.” Jesse muttered. It came out angrier than he had intended. “I mean - yeah, It’ll be okay.”

This seemed to satisfy Fareeha. “Alright then!” She turned on her heel and strode towards the front door. “Angela’s really nice so I’m excited to meet the rest of your friends. Are they all that cool? Do they all have wings? Angela’s wings are super cool…”

She kept talking all the way out the door, mostly about Angela. Her oblivious affection made Jesse feel a little better. 

“And then she said she’d see us at the Gibralter today! I’m surprised she has time for anything like that with how busy she is. She needs a holiday.” Fareeha declared, bursting out the front door of the building. She held it open for Jesse, who hobbled through with Hanzo close behind. Hanzo discreetly slipped his hand into Jesse’s. A dull thrum of anxiety pulsed through Jesse’s mind - but he was simply too worn out to care.

“In all the time that I have known her, I do not think Angela has taken a single holiday.” Hanzo interjected. Fareeha stared at him, aghast.

“What? Oh my god, we need to take her somewhere fun! We should all go out on the town sometime. You know, go to a bar or something.” She said.

Although the going was slow, the time passed quickly with Fareeha’s spoken reverie and in no time at all they were outside the cafe. Its doors were wide open, letting the scent of coffee and cake drift into the cold street. Jesse felt Hanzo grip his hand a little tighter. He must not have gotten over the girl…

“Go on, I think I see Lena.” Jesse gestured for Fareeha to go inside. She walked in eagerly. Hanzo leant a little closer to Jesse and lowered his voice.

“I am here for you.” He murmured. Jesse managed a grateful, if weak, smile. Hanzo stepped into the cafe first and Jesse followed close behind. The noisy bustle and warm smell was comfortingly homely. Sure enough, he spotted Angela sitting at a table, and Lena smiling behind the counter. Fareeha made a beeline for Angela, while Jesse and Hanzo wandered over to Lena. Her tiny face lit up like a fairy light the instant she saw the two.

“Loves! You’re back! How was -” Her eyes wandered to Jesse’s arm. “ o - oh. Full moon?”

Hanzo nodded.

“Oh dear. Oh my. Um. Well, I’m glad you’re back, duck. Haven’t had any trouble here while you’ve been gone. But we’ve all missed you two!” She smiled. “And who’s the pretty thing sitting next to Angela?”

Hanzo looked at her drily. “You already have a partner, Lena.” 

Lena’s face suddenly split into a massive grin. “Not just that! You’re not gonna believe this, loves - I proposed yesterday!”

Jesse was shaken out of his quiet thoughts. “Proposed?”

“I took her out to a pretty restaurant, you know, and after dessert I popped the question. It was romantic like you wouldn’t believe, loves.” She stuck out her hand proudly, showing the glittering ring that now lived on her finger.

“Congratulations, Lena.” Hanzo smiled. She blushed and smiled even brighter - soon her face would split in two - then glanced around the cafe.

“I’m kind of still busy. How about you drag your friend over, then go down back and say hello to Reinhardt and Winston?” She suggested. Hanzo nodded, and trotted off to tear Fareeha away from Angela. Lena leant over the counter conspiratorially.

“So who is she? Your sister?” She asked. Jesse tilted his head in a ‘sort of yes, sort of no’ manner.

“Kind of. Her name’s Fareeha. We sure ain’t related, but she’s like a sister to me.” He replied. He would have elaborated, but by then Hanzo - with Fareeha in tow - had returned.

“Hi! Are you Jesse’s friend? I’m Fareeha.” Fareeha grinned. She towered over Lena - the smaller girl’s head barely came up to her shoulder.

“Nice to meet you, love! I’m Lena - I man the register here with Bastion.” She gave the cash register a pat. Bastion let out the quietest of buzzes, and Fareeha sent it a suspicious look. Jesse couldn’t help but chuckle a little.

“Fari, you should meet Reinhardt.” He suggested. “He’s who I work with most of the time.”

“Oh yeah? He do the baking with you?” Fareeha asked. Jesse nodded. Hanzo gestured towards the ‘staff only’ stairway with a flick of his head that sent his stray lock of hair arcing through the air. Fareeha grinned, mocked a curtsey, and obediently started to trundle down the stairs. Hanzo followed behind. Lena watched them go with a curious expression. Jesse started to lumber after them.

“Jesse…” Lena’s voice made him turn around. Her face screwed up as she searched for words.

“I mean, everything clearly wasn’t alright - just look at you, love. But, you know - are things alright with you and Hanzo?” She asked. “Everything was a right mess when you left. Did you sort it all out?”

Jesse managed a reassuring smile. “We did. Everythin’ ended up jus’ fine.” A phantom pain tingled where his arm would have been. He glanced away and hurried after Hanzo.

Going down the steps was a challenge. Each downwards movement lurched his body precariously, meaning he had to pause halfway down to quell the uneasy churning in his stomach. But finally he was at the bottom, staring at the familiar hallway. A reassuring waft of baked goods drifted by him. He could hear Reinhardt’s bellowing as well - Hanzo and Fareeha must have already introduced themselves. He walked into the kitchen.

“A friend of Jesse is a friend of mine!” Reinhardt roared. He was wearing that well-endowed apron again - absolutely covered in flour, of course - and was currently vigorously ruffling Fareeha’s hair. Hanzo stood a little ways off, looking remarkably tiny beside them (and a little uncomfortable). Fareeha looked a little confused, but she smiled when she saw Jesse. Reinhardt followed her gaze and grinned.

“The man himself!” Reinhardt cried. He lumbered past Fareeha, his gigantic form quickly approaching Jesse.

“It was madness without you, my friend! Of course, the cafe was closed for a while. I am a little disappointed I did not hear from you what happened, but I will live! Ha ha! And now that you are back - “ His blue eyes finally found their way to Jesse’s arm and his slew of conversation faltered. He raised his eyebrows and let out a blow of air. “That is a mighty battle wound.” He commented. “No more rolling pins for a while, then. No matter! You can glaze instead.”

Jesse found himself actually being thankful that Reinhardt didn’t make a fuss of it.

“Jesse, I had no idea all your friends were so cool!” Fareeha beamed. She glanced around the kitchen, eyes shining in excitement. Jesse’s tired eyes narrowed slyly.

“Don’t suppose Angela’s your favourite.” He said with a pointed look. Fareeha blushed.

“Favourite? I mean, she’s cool. She’s got wings! And she loves to help people. But I don’t - my favourite? Why would I have a favourite out of your friends?” Fareeha laughed a little nervously, her blush deepening. Jesse and Hanzo exchanged a glance. Yeah, she was head over heels.

“Reinhardt, is Winston here?” Hanzo asked. Reinhardt scratched his white beard, mulling over the question.

“I’m sorry, Hanzo. I think he went out today. Something about a property he’s interested in buying.”

“Another cafe?” Jesse asked, surprised. Reinhardt shook his head.

“I don’t think that’s what Winston would want. I have a suspicion he’s got some big idea in his head about making different places for people to go. You know, safe spots. He has ideas too big for him to carry out sometimes.” Reinhardt lamented. “He worries me.”

“He is smart. I am certain he will be fine.” Hanzo replied. He turned to glance at Fareeha. “I am sorry. You will have to meet him some other day.”

“That’s alright. I, ah - I thought I might just go talk to Angela. You guys need anything? No?” She was already halfway out the door. Jesse gave a little shake of his head, and a quiet knowing smile, and she was gone. Reinhardt raised his eyebrows.

“I like that one.” He said decisively. Then his eyes widened. “The scones!”

* * *

Hanzo and Jesse escaped before they could be roped into helping Reinhardt glaze pastries. As soon as they were out of the kitchen, Jesse felt Hanzo’s hand grab his. To his surprise, he found himself led back up the stairs, past Lena and Fareeha, out of the store’s front door. Hanzo didn’t even deign to explain himself, simply towing Jesse behind him as he marched down the street. The cold nipped at Jesse’s face. That - and the snowflakes descending in a sugary sprinkle around him - made him want to sneeze. At least the cold numbed the dull thrum that seemed omnipresent in his limbs. Finally, Hanzo stopped. They were under a streetlight, poking out of a layer of snow. Jesse finally let out the sneeze that had been plaguing him for the whole walk.

“Hanzo, what’re we doin’ here?” He asked, sniffling. Hanzo looked like a statue. His face was stern and concentrating down into the snow. If he looked at it any harder, it might just explode into flames. His whole body looked tense, almost protectively preparing itself for something. Jesse waited patiently for him to find words. Eventually, Hanzo let out a deep breath.

“Jesse.” He started quietly.

“I am aware that we have not known each other for a long time. It has only been a few months since we first met - but in those months stressful circumstances have forged a relationship much faster, I think, than most.  
“And I thought that possibly - and you do not have to accept, you do not even have to consider -” Hanzo flustered, his almost angrily stern eyes staring into Jesse’s. 

“Do you want to live together?”

Jesse couldn’t speak. No matter how much he asked his vocal chords to murmur, he could only stare at Hanzo. His sharp cheekbones were pale from chill, his stern brows furrowed with anticipation and worry. His black hair and jacket against the white blur behind him made the situation feel almost unreal. Finally, finally, Jesse felt himself speak.

“Yes.”

The loosening of his voice had opened the gates and now he felt it all tumbling out.

“Yes, yes, of course! Darlin’, I’d love nothin’ more. My god, that’d make me the happiest man in the world. Oh, Han. You’ve just made my goddamn day.” Crystalline tears were trembling down his smiling cheeks. The thought of waking up every day with Hanzo beside him seemed impossibly perfect. All his worries, his pains, the ache in his limbs, melted away. He held Hanzo tightly in his arm, finding himself sniffling into his jacket shoulder. Goddamn, how was it possible to like someone this much? His heart felt like it was going to burst.

“Shit, ain’t anyone better ‘n you, Han.” Jesse mumbled, his voice muffled by the jacket. Hanzo reciprocated the tight embrace, one hand tracing a small circle on Jesse’s shoulder blade.

“That is untrue. There is a tall and kind cowboy I know. He is warmer than the sun, and holds his family close to his heart, and although I am cold and flawed, he has accepted me into his life.” Hanzo murmured. Jesse’s sheepish chuckle sent another pair of chilly tears rolling down his cheeks.

“You aren’t cold. You aren’t flawed either. You saved my life, an’ I think you might’ve saved my heart too.” He took a deep breath, halting the next flow of tears. A shaky smile on his face, he drew back from the hug, still holding Hanzo’s shoulder.

“You’re sweeter than a slice of moon cake, darlin’. Ain’t nothin’ I’d like more than to live together with you. But, ah - where?”

“Well, your apartment is larger than mine.” Hanzo reasoned. The thought of Hanzo living in his apartment made Jesse blush.

“Well then, sounds like a plan.” He said. He smiled tenderly, and kissed Hanzo. His lips were tinged blue and he could barely feel it, but his heart still leapt. A few seconds later, a snowflake irritated Jesse’s nose and he had to break away to sneeze.

“We should get you back home.” Hanzo said with a soft smile.

_Home. Our home._

“That sounds good, darlin’.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A (mostly) fluffy chapter! I figured my sweet boys deserved some happiness ;w;


	24. Not new, but second hand

When Jesse opened his tired eyes, a few thoughts struck him. The first was the strange and naked feeling of his left side. He shifted slightly, trying to discern why this was. Ah - now reality came back to him - with it came a weary melancholy. The naked feeling was, in fact, a feeling of striking lacking where an arm had once resided. This feeling, however, was quickly replaced by the next cogitation. Jesse’s movement had bumped his leg against someone else’s. His eyes blinked open a little more to find himself face to face with a head of dark hair. He smiled drowsily. The silky locks smelled of home. He shuffled as close to Hanzo as he could, wishing dearly that he still possessed a hand to sling over his sleeping form.

“Mm… Genji?” Hanzo’s voice was tired, detached. He rolled over, getting hair in Jesse’s face in the process. His black eyes stared at Jesse, slowly processing.

“Good morning, darlin’.” Jesse purred. He motioned forwards and they gently butted foreheads. 

“I s’ppose we still don’t have much to eat, but I can probably rustle up coffee and somethin’ hot if I try.” He said. Hanzo considered this for a moment. 

“It is saturday. Surely we can stay in bed for a little longer.” He replied. Jesse smiled, letting his leg slip between Hanzo’s.

“Sounds like a good idea, Han.” Their kisses were tired, slow, a little lopsided. With the warmth of his lover against him and the comforting sheets around him, Jesse nearly fell asleep in the middle of a particularly drawn out kiss. He felt a hand stroking his hair, couldn’t help but nuzzle into the touch. A hand was stroking down his chest in languid movements. 

“What should we do this weekend?” Jesse asked between kisses. Hanzo didn’t reply immediately, instead letting his hand linger on Jesse’s chest.

“Let’s just be together. Play board games or somethin’. I don’t care as long as it’s with you.” Jesse replied. His earnest tone won a chuckle from Hanzo.

“I would enjoy that.” He said.  
“Oh - and I was thinking. Now that we are living together… And I say this because I am quite sure Fareeha intends to stay in Canada - why don’t I give my apartment to Fareeha?” 

Jesse’s eyebrows hiked up on his face. “Are you sure? Damn, that’s a hell of a gift, Han. I mean, if you ended up not likin’ sharing a space with me, or she doesn’t want to stay -” Hanzo cut him off.

“Have you seen her? She is in love with Canada. You were still recovering when this happened - but the first time it snowed, she cried. And to be so close to you, her remaining family… Is it not the best solution? I see no disadvantage.” He said. “And I feel Canada is not the only thing she is affectionate towards.”

“Heh. Yeah, she’s been bitten by the love bug alright.” Jesse chuckled. He then softly nipped at Hanzo’s lip. “Think I got bit too.”

Both of them were more awake now, and as Jesse’s kisses started to descend Hanzo let out a faint moan.

“Gettin’ hot under the collar?” Jesse couldn’t help but be a little pleased at his ability to make Hanzo melt, so he let his mouth travel a little lower. Now he was at Hanzo’s chest, teasing him by going torturously slowly. His hand crept lower still, making Hanzo moan again. His face was flushing red, and Jesse suspected his was too.

“Jesse, stop teasing me!” Hanzo complained, doing nothing to stop the onslaught of kisses. Instead he leant into them, encouraging Jesse lower still. Jesse eventually broke from the path and returned to face Hanzo. 

“I know you’re probably wantin’ somethin’ more, an’ truth be told so am I - but I’m sorry, Han. I’m just not up to it right now.” He murmured apologetically. Hanzo kissed him gently before replying.

“I understand - and there is no need to apologise. I only want what you are comfortable with.”

“Thanks, darlin’. You’re as sweet as sugar. I might just have to kiss you again for that.”

* * *

Breakfast was a slightly sordid affair. Jesse’s cupboards were still bare, so they had dined on from-the-box macaroni and cheese. Well, to say ‘they’ was untrue; Hanzo had eaten macaroni and cheese. Jesse had picked at his small portion, only managing a few mouthfuls of the slightly rubbery pasta. He hadn’t missed the concerned glances from Hanzo, but he had said nothing.

“Darlin’.” Jesse began, discreetly pushing his bowl of pasta a little further away from him. The artificial orange pasta seemed to sag at his rejection. Hanzo glanced up from his coffee. Jesse looked nervously at the white box on the couch. “I think I want to try wearin’ the arm today.”

This made Hanzo’s head snap up from his drink. 

“Jesse, I do not think that is a good idea.” He warned. “Your wound is still sensitive, and last time just looking at the arm…” He trailed off. Jesse gritted his teeth.

“I want to get it over with. Y’know, rip the plaster off.” He waved his hand vaguely, acutely aware of how scared he sounded. He did want to get it over and done with, that was true. He just omitted the fact that he felt like retching again at the very thought. At least there would be nothing to come back up should he deign to vomit. He suddenly felt the urge to clench a cigarette between his teeth. Let the nicotine dull his senses, sink into a miasma of uncaring.

“If you are certain…” Hanzo sounded just as unsure as he was. His hair had been gathered into that all too familiar ponytail again, and the ribbon fluttered gently as he glanced at the box. With a grunt, Jesse stood up from his seat. It felt like the space between him and the box stretched out, flying away from him like a camera shifting perspective. He forced his legs to start moving - then paused as he felt Hanzo’s hand interlock with his.

“You need not do this alone.” He murmured. Jesse smiled gratefully.

“Thanks, darlin’.” The walk to the box was torturous, but Jesse felt like he almost would have preferred it to last forever. Now that it was at arm’s reach, he could feel dread creeping up his neck. He didn’t want to be attacked by those feelings of horror, depression, fear… But Hanzo was with him. They were facing it together. Slowly, as if he thought there might be a snake underneath, the box’s lid was removed. The glittering arm was silent in its white nest.

“I don’t know how to use it.” Jesse said. Hanzo picked the arm out of the box. A note fluttered out from under it, coming to rest beside the box. He picked it up and started to scrutinise it.

“It needs batteries…” Hanzo said in surprise. 

“They’re in the kitchen, drawer down from the cutlery.” Following Jesse’s instructions, Hanzo quickly retrieved two chunky batteries. Even though his hands were more slender than Jesse’s, it still took a while for him to pry off a metal plate from the underside of the prosthetic and slip in the batteries. A soft buzzing noise emanated from the metal arm, making Jesse want to shudder. It fell silent again. Hanzo looked at the instruction booklet again.

“It does not seem too strenuous. Hold your arm out.” He instructed. Jesse gingerly offered his left arm out, his other hand rubbing his chin. Hanzo was right - it was surprisingly easy to line the hand up with his own arm (he couldn’t bring himself to call it a stump). Hanzo held it an inch away from Jesse’s skin.

“Are you sure about this?” Hanzo asked softly. Jesse gritted his teeth and nodded.

“Now or never, darlin’.” He replied. The prosthetic had a soft lining where it touched his skin. In his mind, it still felt deathly cold. Jesse fought the urge to yank his arm away as the arm hugged against him. Where his arm used to be. Where a part of him had been lost.

“Han-” He bit back a cry. Hanzo’s hand was in his own, reassuring him. 

“It’s on.” Hanzo said. Jesse realised he’d closed his eyes. Inching them open, he saw the gleaming arm sitting proudly on his arm. It rested in his lap, completely stationary. A wave of relief washed over him. It didn’t feel like hell on earth to wear. He didn’t feel like vomiting just looking at it. Although - he wasn’t too sure on how to move it.

“It’s on.” Jesse echoed. “But - how do I use it?”

“I think it reacts to movements in your upper arm. So try to move the hand like you would normally.” Hanzo suggested, nose buried in the booklet. Jesse bit his lip. Didn’t sound too hard… 

“Ah!” The hand whirred to life, revolving as the fingers curled down. His surprise made it move even more vivaciously - it curled into a fist, then the wrist craned back. Jesse stared at it in amazement.

“Guess I’ll need to practise.” He said. Hanzo inspected the hand closely, watching it curiously as the wrist sprung to life again. It moved unnaturally smoothly, but at least it didn’t make Jesse feel nauseated. 

“You were very brave.” Hanzo said seriously.

“What are ya, a mum with a kid goin’ to get their vaccines?” Jesse teased. Hanzo looked at him reproachfully. Jesse chuckled and concentrated on trying to move the new arm. It obediently moved upwards, and he tapped the curled pinkie to Hanzo’s chin.

“I’d try an’ hold you, darlin’, but I don’t rightly trust myself with this yet.” He professed. Hanzo’s frown wobbled, then turned into a smile.

“You do not need an arm to kiss me.” He said. Jesse grinned.

“No, suppose I don’t.”

* * *

“PASS ME THE ROLLING PIN!” Reinhardt’s bellow reverberated through the kitchen. Jesse scooped the rolling pin out from its drawer and tossed it to his gigantic companion.

“More of those little rabbit biscuits?” He guessed. Reinhardt chuckled.

“They are selling faster than I can make them!” He replied. With the endless hasselhoff blasting in the room, it would have been hard to hear him at a normal pitch - but, of course, that wasn’t a problem with Reinhardt. Jesse was starting to wonder whether he was slightly deaf.

“March sure flew by. Hardly feels like winter’s gone, an’ now it’s already easter!” Jesse said. It truly did feel like March had flown past in a blur of recovery and working at the cafe. Hanzo had, of course, been with him every step of the way. Not a day had gone past where Jesse was alone, which he was incredibly grateful for. There was something about Hanzo’s presence that made his pain infinitely more tolerable.

“Ah, now that it is a new month…” Reinhardt’s voice grew a tad hesitant. “Do you have plans for the full moon?”

Jesse nodded, a weary grin on his face.

“Don’t worry. Hanzo and I went shopping last week. We got chains, rope, padlocks - I’m gonna be hardly able to move, let alone hurt anyone. We might even get a sedative or somethin’ from Angela. An’ we’re plannin’ on using the cafe’s basement. I already talked to Winston about it.” He replied. Reinhardt gave him a thumbs up. The movement made a puff of flour sprinkle down from his apron.

“Perfect! I hope it all goes well.” He yelled. Jesse glanced back down at the half-cut slice in front of him. His prosthetic arm gripped its container firmly. It couldn’t even hope to be as useful as his organic arm had been, but he had to admit its strong grip was useful. He didn’t even have to worry about the blender’s lid flying off anymore. Now, as he picked up the knife with his right hand and started to cut uniform lines in the chocolate slice, it held on strongly without a second thought. 

Another Hasselhoff song came to a rhythmic end and Reinhardt looked up from his vigorous rolling.

“It is lunch time.” He announced. “How about you go up and have a break?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Jesse agreed. “I’ll bring you back something nice, don’t you worry.” He added with a grin. Reinhardt chuckled and waved him out of the kitchen.

“Go have some fun!” If he said something after that, it was lost in the thumping drumbeat of the next song. Jesse gave him a slightly jerky wave with his prosthetic and walked out of the kitchen. He glanced down at his black apron - the patches of flour made it look like the side of a friesian cow. It was a short walk to the file room, and when he reached the light wooden door he gently rapped on it.

“Han, you want to go get some lunch?” He called. After a moment there was still no response. He listened for another moment, then pushed the door open. He tended to avoid the file room; he had a habit of knocking things over. But having lunch with Hanzo was also an ingrained habit, and the desire to share a meal with his boyfriend overpowered his hesitance to delve into the cafe’s archive. As soon as he slipped into the room, he was hit by the scent of musty paper. It was a lot cleaner than it had been a few weeks ago, he noticed.

“Han?” He called softly. Each footstep was a gamble as he tried to find a space to slot himself into in the narrow walkway - how did Hanzo navigate this labyrinth every day? Finally he found himself at the back of the room. There was a small desk pushed up against the far wall, and he could see Hanzo hunched over it. Earphones hung from his ears and he looked deep in thought, meticulously scribbling on something. Jesse padded over to him - nearly knocking over a box on the way over - and tapped him on the shoulder. Hanzo jumped a little, whirling around.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you.” Jesse said quickly. Hanzo swiftly removed his earphones and looked up from his work.

“Is it lunch time already?” He asked, standing up. Spurred by habit, he walked behind Jesse and started to untie his apron. Much to Jesse’s chagrin, his metal arm made putting on or taking off an apron impossible, so it had become Hanzo’s job every day to help him out of it. As soon as it was off, Jesse turned around and kissed Hanzo. He wanted nothing more than to go on kissing Hanzo for all of their lunch break, but he considered that he would regret not eating anything for the rest of the day. With that in mind, he drew away from the embrace and smiled.

“What do you want for lunch, darlin’?” He asked. Hanzo considered this for a moment.

“I would like to eat something unhealthy.” He decided. “You have allowed me to convince you to eat healthily, and now it seems like every day all we eat is noodles, rice and vegetables. So let’s go eat something deep fried, or covered in sugar.”

Jesse’s stomach rumbled loudly.

“Sounds good to me.” He said with a chuckle. “How about a pie? A good, hot mince pie covered in barbecue sauce. An’ then we can have a milkshake or somethin’, because today’s a special occasion.”

“Why is that?”

“Because every day’s special with you, Han.” He smiled. Hanzo huffed - god, he loved that regal huff - and reached down to zip up his jacket.

“I would like that.” He murmured. “Oh, and - it is Easter soon. Since we do not have much family to go visit, I thought we could go and do something special together instead. I - I already booked us reservations at your favourite restaurant.” Hanzo’s face was going a rosy pink. Jesse could feel a giddy grin on his face.

“Darlin’, that’s damn kind of you! I’d love to. You’re just perfect, darlin’.” He couldn’t help but kiss him again, sweeping him off his feet in a strong hug.

“Come on, let’s go. We wait any longer to eat an’ I might faint!”

“Do not be concerned; I would catch you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mmMMMMM now that all that angst nonsense is out of the way, I can write all the cute fluff I want >:3c
> 
> Thank you all again for your support! I love reading all your comments <3 don't worry, more cute mchanzo fluff is on the way!
> 
> ((By the way - I know meat pies are kind of a weird NZ/Australia thing and you don't get them very much in north america, but I couldn't help but imagine hanzo and jesse tucking into mince pies at a cute cafe ;w; it was too adorable to pass up!))


	25. Chained to you

_Creaking timber._

_Although he couldn’t see a single building for miles - he was in a dry and sunny canyon - the sound of groaning wood carried on the hot wind. If he concentrated on listening to it, the sound almost morphed into a condor’s call._

_“Hungry?” A voice made him whirl around. He must be wearing spurs, because they jingled when he took a step back. In the far distance, he could see a person walking towards him. They were dark and nearly amorphous in the trembling heatwaves. But somehow, their voice was right beside him. The timber creaked again. A lonely, sad noise._

_“You really should eat.” Although he could clearly see them walking now, they didn’t seem to be getting any closer. A mirage? He looked behind him. Red rock spanned to the fuzzy horizon, completely flat._

_“Try it.” He looked back at the figure. They had come closer. The incessant creaking of wood faded away. It was replaced by a delicious smell. He tried to keep looking at the figure - its approach was filling him with a sense of dread - but eventually the enticing aroma_

_(don’t do it)_   
_(hungryhungryhungry)_   
_forced his eyes away. Its source was beside him. It sat, enticingly succulent, like turkey on a thanksgiving table. Perfectly roasted, dripping in sauce. He was so hungry..._

_“N-no-” He couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. All that came out was the groaning of an old house’s walls. He tore his eyes away from his own arm. The figure was in front of him. It was Ana._

_“Don’t you want to eat?”_

He woke with a pained gasp. His skin was covered in a sheen of cold sweat, his shoulders shook as he desperately tried to fill his lungs with air. It was still dark, blinding him, suffocating him.

“I am here. It is alright.” Hanzo’s soft voice made him jump. The first gentle touch on his back made another frightened croak spill from his throat, but the second slowly untensed his tight muscles. Jesse forced himself to take deep, measured breaths, and slowly his heartbeat slowed from its crescendo. He looked at Hanzo with eyes he knew were about to overflow.

“Th - the full moon’s tonight.” He managed to stammer out. The thought of it sent another wave of horrified repulsion through his body. He wanted so badly to crawl out from his own body, leave it behind to destroy itself - just don’t take him with it. Hanzo had leant in close and their faces were nearly touching. 

“It will be alright. I will not let you hurt yourself now, or any other time.” He said firmly. Jesse fumbled to wipe his bleary eyes, then forced a wobbly grin.

“I know, darlin’. I dunno if I can ever thank you enough for any of this.” He said. Hanzo shook his head.

“You do not need to thank me. I do this out of love.” He replied. The fear that fringed the vignette of darkness slowly ebbed away. Jesse burrowed deeper into Hanzo’s warm embrace, painfully aware of how wretched he looked. The desperate need for touch and warmth had overpowered any other emotion. The thorny fear of the future couldn’t touch him when he was held in Hanzo’s arms. After who knows how long, he could feel his eyelids growing heavier. He relaxed into the dark, comforting warmth, letting his mind slip back into unconsciousness. He could feel a hand gently stroking his hair, soothing him into a restful slumber.

* * *

He did not dream for the rest of the night. When he woke it was almost refreshing to open his eyes and face the day. Almost. He blinked his eyelids apart with sheer force of will and glanced at Hanzo, still asleep next to him. Over the past days, he’d noticed a slow shift in Hanzo’s sleeping pattern. In the beginning he’d woken early - almost ridiculously so - and sometimes accidentally woken Jesse with the racket his morning exercises made. Slowly, however, he’d started to sleep in later, often going to sleep beside each other but ending up spooning in the morning. The exercise shifted to the evening, and Jesse was more than grateful to be able to wake up next to Hanzo. As it was this morning, Hanzo lying stomach down, drooling a little into his pillow. Even with that slightly gross action, seeing Hanzo made Jesse’s heart swell with affection. Damn it, you’ve fallen hard, he thought to himself. He couldn’t help it - he leant down and kissed him softly on the cheek. The movement accidentally nudged Hanzo’s side, which was enough to wake him. His eyes flew open and stared into Jesse’s. 

“Good morning.” Jesse hummed. Hanzo sat upright quickly, already starting to clamber out of bed.

“Darlin’, don’t I even get a kiss?” Jesse protested. Hanzo glanced at the bedside clock.

“It is a work day, Jesse, and we are late.” He replied. Jesse sighed and nodded forlornly.

“S’pose you’re right.” He started to get out of bed too, making sure to look as miserable as possible. Once he’d moped out of bed and the two were starting to walk out of the bedroom, Jesse sighed again and glanced at Hanzo with eyes so gooey they were about to melt. He could see Hanzo steadily going pink. A single annoyed huff, and suddenly Jesse was against the wall, being kissed so fervently he made a surprised ‘mmf!’ noise. He quickly softened into the embrace, however. After a few blissful moments, Hanzo withdrew with a grumpy - but blushing - expression.

“You are very frustrating sometimes.” He grumbled. Jesse grinned, slinging his arm around Hanzo’s middle. 

“An’ you love it, darlin’.” He purred. The two trotted into the kitchen and Jesse instinctively went to fill the kettle. He held it tightly - then groaned as his left arm waved uselessly, trying to grab the tap with an imaginary hand. 

“Han, I forgot to put on my arm - can you help me out a little?” He asked. Hanzo obligingly reached over and helped him with the tap. Once the kettle was on its electric perch - already starting to whistle lowly - Jesse turned to glance at the bedroom.

“Ah hell, I’ll put it on after breakfast.” He declared. Thinking of the arm segued his train of thought to darker topics. Just like last night, he felt a cold dread settle itself firmly in his abdomen.

“Speakin’ of… Today’s the day.” He mumbled. Hanzo nodded, watching the toaster. 

“Do not worry about it. Well before evening, you will be secure in the Gibraltar’s basement. I will phone Angela and ask her about the sedative.” He replied. Jesse shifted uncomfortably.

“I know, I know… I just can’t help bein’ worried, is all.” He replied. “I mean, my arm - it could’ve been a lot worse, Han. I could’ve - could’ve - well, it could’a been real shit. An’ I - I’m scared.” His voice went quiet. “I’m scared of the pain, I’m scared I’m gonna eat somethin’... somethin’ else.” His stomach felt quesy at the mere thought. Hanzo was no longer watching the toaster. He strode over to Jesse and firmly held his hand, rising it up to his chest and gripping it tightly.

“It is scary. Terrifying. I cannot do anything about that, and I am endlessly sorry for it. But you are brave. So, so brave. Brave enough to save my life. And now you have so many friends who wish to return the endless favours you have selflessly given us. I cannot stop your fear. But I will always be here for you.”

“Shit, darlin’.” Jesse could feel a tear trailing down his cheek. Hanzo noticed it too, and delicately brushed it away.

“We will face this together, no matter what happens. I know you will be strong, Jesse. Now, do you want jam or honey?”

* * *

“Don’t lie to me!”

“I’m not!”

“Like hell you ain’t!” Jesse’s reply make Lena cackle mischievously. She turned on the coffee machine, grinning evilly as its loud hissing noise prevented Jesse from continuing his spiel. As soon as it had stopped its whirring sounds, she prepared the drink in a blur of action.

“Why don’t you think I saved Stephen Fry’s life?” She shot back. Jesse grinned, shaking his head in disbelief.

“How, then?” He asked. He leant against the counter, idly cleaning a coffee cup.

“Well - I was walking around the mall, right, grocery shopping for the week - terrible prices at the corner stores! You wouldn’t believe how much cheaper the mall was - anyway, I get my shopping, I go outside, and who do I see crossing the road? Stephen bloody Fry!” Lena was gesturing animatedly through the whole story. “And there’s a bus bearing down on him! So I run up - there’s a good ten metres between me and him, mind you - and knock him out of the way! Lost my baguette under the bus, but that’s what you get for saving a life. Had to go before he saw my face, though. Got a few odd looks because of how fast I’d got there, so better to skedaddle, don’t you think, love?”

Lena’s breakneck pace had Jesse speechless. She grinned smugly, then turned to greet the next customer.

“Cheers love, what can I get you?” Jesse turned to pick up another wet cup. Maybe Lena really had saved his life; her mischievous grin made it hard to believe her, but he certainly didn’t doubt her speed. His mind slowly wandered to Emily. Had she been there? Maybe he could ask. 

“Coo-ey!” He was snapped back into reality by Lena’s friendly waving. “You zoned out a bit there.”

Jesse smiled apologetically. “Sorry. Say - how’re things going with Emily?”

If it was even possible, Lena’s smile seemed to grow even bigger. “Bloody fantastic! We’re organising the wedding, and it’s a lot more complicated than I expected - but it’s set to be in about four months. We talked to some professionals and they were talking about big ceremonies and all that ridiculousness; Emily and I just want something small, you know, just us and some close friends. You’re invited, of course. Speaking of…” She leaned in conspiratorially, ever the actress. “Would you mind if I enlisted you and Hanzo for some help?”

Jesse raised an eyebrow. “What kind of help?” He queried. 

“Oh, you know, just some cosmetic stuff. We need help with the flower arranging, sending out the invitations, deciding on a venue - no pressure or anything, I know it’s a big ask. But, then again, it’d be pretty romantic.” She teased. Jesse nodded in agreement.

“You can count on us.” He declared. Lena’s smile grew even bigger.

“Brilliant! Then you two are on florist duty this friday.” She proclaimed. Another customer had wandered to the counter, and Lena averted her attention to greet them. Jesse, too, returned to cleaning cups - although this time considering what Lena had said. He had to admit, it did sound very romantic. He’d never much thought about marrying before - even with Lucas the thought had been tentative at best. But now… He cleaned another cup quietly, trying to make sense of his new thoughts.

The day passed quickly. His time was spent torn between the counter with Lena and the kitchen with Reinhardt - and, of course, a lunch break spent with Hanzo. When his shift finally came to an end he was feeling a little worn out; no wonder Hanzo preferred to hide himself away filing papers. Doing that much socialising would probably kill him. He was with Hanzo now, standing outside the basement

Jesse glanced at his phone. Time was getting on. His organic hand tightly gripped Hanzo’s, metal hand clenched into a nervous fist. His world was tunneling fast, fear kept at bay only by Hanzo’s presence.

“We must begin securing you.” Hanzo said quietly. Jesse nodded, his throat dry. All the ropes were already in the basement. All he had to do was step inside, let Hanzo truss him up, keep the intense terror at bay before his inevitable transformation. And then wake up, safe and sound, not covered in his own blood, or retching on the floor as he looked at his arm and -

“Jesse, focus on my voice.” Hanzo’s voice forcefully pulled him from his thoughts. Jesse glanced at him nervously. The look on Hanzo’s face was stern - almost frighteningly so. He knew it was just concern for his safety, but Jesse couldn’t help a spike of worry. He found himself pulled to the middle of the room by Hanzo’s strong grip. There was an almost farcefully large pile of chains (complete with another, smaller pile of padlocks) in a corner.

“Sit down. I’m going to take off your arm.” Hanzo said firmly. Jesse obediently kneeled, then rocked backwards onto his butt, his legs splayed out in front of him. 

“Just make sure to take off the prosthetic one.” The joke came out feebly, ruined by his nervous voice. Hanzo knelt down next to him and gently removed the metal arm. 

“It will be alright.” Hanzo said as he deftly took off the prosthetic. Jesse’s phone was the next to go, slipped out of his pocket before he could protest. It was when Hanzo picked up one of the snakeline chains that Jesse got antsy.

“Hold on now, darlin. I ain’t turning just yet, surely this can wait a minute or two.” He blustered, scrabbling for a foothold on the concrete floor. He was scared. He was terrified. This was a lot realer than the ropes they’d bound him in last time.

“We do not have time to waste. I know that this is scary but please, Jesse, do not struggle.” Hanzo’s firmness didn’t really help. Jesse was sure he would thank him for this later, but right now he wanted back the boyfriend that had kissed him this morning. Hanzo must have seen the new fear in his eyes, because a soft kiss was placed on his forehead, then his lips. 

“Relax. It will be over soon. Then, if you would like, we can stay home tomorrow and watch wild west movies all day.” Hanzo said quietly. Jesse nodded, smiling weakly. Slowly, with a watchful eye, cold chains were draped around him, pinning his arms to him claustrophobically.

It took a while, but eventually he found himself chained securely, leant miserably against a wall. He fought against his instinct to try and escape the restraints, instead watching Hanzo as he checked everything one last time. 

“You know, if someone walked in right now they’d see a pretty different circumstance.” Jesse joked. Hanzo looked at him drily.

“A situation wherein I have kidnapped you, or a BDSM situation?”

“Bit early in the evening for- ouch!” Jesse winced as his skin got pinched between two chains.

“Sorry. It’s hard to adjust them…” Hanzo mumbled. Another moment of silence passed. Then Jesse felt a familiar sensation crawl up his spine.

“Darlin’, I can feel it comin’.” He warned. Hanzo nodded briskly. Another creeping flush of aggressiveness made goosebumps stand up on Jesse’s skin.

“I love you. I will see you in the morning.” Hanzo said quietly. He dug around in his pocket, took out a small container, and flicked out a small pill which he lifted for Jesse to see.

“A sleeping pill.” He explained. Jesse swallowed it with a grimace.

“See you tomorrow, darlin’.” A final kiss on Jesse’s forehead - then the door was shut behind him with a slam. 

Don’t struggle. Don’t give in to the anger. Jesse did his best to stay still, but there was an angry heat filling his blood. Soon he was thrashing madly, furiously trying to rid himself of his constraints. Fur was growing, claws were lengthening - the agonising and all too familiar process was starting again. Fear was replaced by anger. Even through the slight feeling of drowsiness that was making his limbs heavy, his vision was going red. He was hungry.

* * *

He didn’t remember falling asleep. He didn’t remember most of what had happened last night. But at some point he must have slept - because now his eyes were slowly opening, prompted by a quiet voice.

“Jesse, god, you’re alright…” His eyes opened a little more. The sound of clinking invaded his ears, and his vision finally righted itself enough for him to see that Hanzo was shedding him of the chains. He looked curiously down at himself. His shirt was a bit destroyed, but he counted one arm, two legs, presumably a face intact. 

He was okay.

As soon as his limbs were free, Hanzo hugged him tightly. Jesse buried his face into Hanzo’s shoulder.

“I’m so glad you’re alright.” Hanzo breathed. Jesse nodded, feeling tears rolling from his face.

“Of course I am, darlin’. You kept me safe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for not uploading a chapter in forever! Life hit me like a truck ;w; but I'm back and gayer than ever, here to bring you that sweet sweet mchanzo fluff >:Dc


	26. A red tulip for you, my love

Jesse’s nails drummed into the steering wheel. There was little else to do on this long expanse, flanked by pastel suburbs on either side. Lena’s car grumbled a little, but continued down the straight avenue.

“Do you see it yet?” Jesse asked. He glanced at Hanzo - his nose was buried deep into a book about flower meanings, face obscured by his loose hair. Jesse shook his head bemusedly and glanced back at the surrounding suburbia, eyes skipping over houses in their search for the florist’s.

“Hm?” Hanzo looked up from his book after a silent moment. “Sorry, did you say something?”

“Naw, it’s alright. Learnin’ anything?” Jesse asked. Hanzo rolled his eyes almost imperceptibly. 

“So much of flower language is drivel. Should we not simply pick them out for their appearance, and how they complement the rest of the bouquet?” He huffed. 

“Lena said she wants meaning, so we get her flowers with meaning.” Jesse replied firmly.

“Well - “ Hanzo hesitated. “Tulips appear to represent perfect love, and violets hold sapphic connotation.”

“What-now connotation?”

“They symbolise lesbian love.”

“Could’a just said that the first time!” Jesse said. Hanzo chuckled. He put his nose firmly back into the book and Jesse returned his attention to the road. He swung around a gentle corner - ah, there it is. A large, ugly mall sat stolidly at the end of the road, surrounded by a moat of tarmac peppered by cars. It was a stark contrast to the suburbia it was surrounded by. Jesse cruised through the parking lot searching for a spot. He finally found an acceptably shaded area under a tree, drove the car into it -

_Thunk!_

“Whoops - shit.” Jesse wrenched the steering wheel back as the car’s front bumped into the tree. Hanzo lurched in his seat and looked up in alarm. When he realised what had happened, he glared at Jesse.

“If you have damaged Lena’s car in any way, I will not hesitate to kill you.” 

Jesse grinned sheepishly. He turned off the engine, then quickly scrambled out of his seat to look at the front of the car. Thank god, it was alright. 

“It’s fine, Han! Don’t panic, the paint ain’t even scratched.” Jesse called. Hanzo visibly sighed and put his book down elegantly. He then must have caught a glance of the mall behind him in the car’s side mirror because he turned around almost violently fast to stick his head out the car door.

“Lena did not say it would be a mall.” He said with obvious worry. Jesse sucked in a sharp breath. He’d somehow managed to completely forget about Hanzo’s fear of large groups of people. 

“Hey now, it’ll be alright. We’ll hold hands, an’ those girls will know they ain’t got half a chance with you, so they won’t bother you.” Jesse tried to sound encouraging. Hanzo looked ready to argue, but simply sighed again and begrudgingly got out of the car. It wasn’t snowing but it was still damn cold, so Hanzo was wearing Jesse’s warmest jacket. His sharp, handsome features and glossy hair made Jesse’s breath hitch in his throat. Jesse himself had opted for a much less fashionable red jumper. His jeans were tucked into a pair of cowboy boots (Hanzo had raised an eyebrow at this but said nothing) that were well scuffed from wear. 

Hanzo grumpily walked over to Jesse. He took Hanzo’s hand gently and gave him a reassuring smile.

“It’ll be fine, darlin’. Don’t worry.” He said. Hanzo grimaced in return. Together they started to walk towards the mall. There weren’t many people outside, but as soon as they entered the difference was stark. They were first hit by a gust of warm air. Then they were hit by a crowd of people.

Hanzo walked next to Jesse as closely as possible, making him appear even shorter. All around them, as they walked down the long stretch of the mall’s corridor, women’s heads swivelled to look at him, some even trailing to a stop as they stared at Hanzo. This - along with the several death stares they’d earned from wrinkly old people - was more than enough to make Hanzo unbelievably uncomfortable. And it showed. He seemed to march rather than walk, his whole body stiff. His face, too, was set into a tense expression of neutral displeasure. The too-clean smell and high roof of the mall probably didn’t help either.

“Not far now, darlin’.”

“Not far until the shop full of women searching for flowers? I do not see how that will be an improvement.” Hanzo muttered. 

“Hopefully they’ll be too lovestruck by their partners to even think about anyone else. I sure don’t notice much else when I’m around you, Han.” Jesse replied. He smiled at the rosy tint that dusted Hanzo’s cheeks. His face was pale under the artificial light of the mall, but that pink flush was unmistakable. Then he saw something in the corner of his eye, and smiled.

“There it is. Come on. Soon you’ll be able to put all that flower knowledge to work an’ you won’t even think about all this.” He said encouragingly. Hanzo muttered something undoubtedly rude in Japanese, but followed Jesse into the flower shop. 

The first thing Jesse noticed was the almost overpowering scent of fruit and pine. It was so strong that he almost had to cough in his attempt to acclimatise to the pungent smell. The next thing on his mind’s agenda was the fact that it looked like they’d just walked into a botanical garden. Flowers of every shape and size covered every surface, in bundles and vases and even mugs. A small slice of the back wall seemed devoted to ribbons and fabric, with colour palettes sagging in their compartments. Hanzo, however, did not seem to care about this. His focus was completely on the throng of women in the shop. 

“We are the only men in here.” He muttered to Jesse under his breath. They slowly walked into the store. Jesse suddenly felt like a sheep wandering into a pack of wolves. They hadn’t been noticed yet, but when they were Hanzo was sure to be swamped with unwanted attention. He gripped Hanzo’s hand tighter and strode towards the counter. The woman standing behind it smiled.

“Hi, can I help you with anything?” She asked. Her eyes wandered to Hanzo, and seemed to gloss over a little. God damn it…

“Ah, yeah, we’re helpin’ a friend with her weddin’, an’ she wants a real nice bouquet. Y’know, one with meaning.” Jesse tried his best to position himself between the woman and Hanzo. She craned her neck a little, then gave Jesse another big smile.

“Of course! How about you go with Meghan and she’ll show you what we have on offer.” She gestured for another lady to come over - a very tall blonde woman who was a good inch taller than Jesse. She, too, was giving Hanzo a mildly sultry look. Hanzo, on the other hand, looked inches away from death, clearly mortified. Jesse grimaced. This was going to be a long day.

* * *

“Alrighty then! They’ll be ready to pick up at about ten. Do you want a membership card?” Meghan asked. Jesse gave her a strained smile.

“No, we’re fine. Bless your heart but we best be off.” He flashed another smile at her. How long had they been choosing flowers for? It felt like hours. To Hanzo it must have felt like more. Every minute in the store had been one of being constantly watched and evaluated by dozens of eyes full of infatuation. Now, as Jesse pulled him out of the store, the feeling of those eyes following Hanzo was almost palpable. Hanzo had said nothing for most of the time they were in the shop and now worry was prickling at Jesse’s neck. They walked quickly out of the mall and across the abandoned parking lot. As soon as they were alone in Lena’s car, Jesse turned to Hanzo.

“I’m sorry about that, darlin’. I didn’t think it would be that bad… I should’ve realised and talked to Lena about findin’ somewhere out of the way, or I could’ve gone alone.” He said quietly. Hanzo didn’t catch his eye. A bad sign.

“How about I make it up to you by makin’ the best stir fry you’ve ever tasted tonight. We have all those carrots and spring onions from the market yesterday -”

“Stop it. You have nothing to make up for. This was not your fault.” Hanzo muttered. “Enough people have wasted time on me today as it is.”

Jesse turned to Hanzo worriedly. “Sweetheart, you aren’t wastin’ my time. I want you to feel happy an’ today ended up bein’ real shit for you.” He clasped Hanzo’s hand in his own tightly.

“I am fine.” Hanzo finally caught his eye. His dark eyes betrayed his lie.

“You sure don’t look fine, darlin’.” Jesse timidly reached out to cup his chin with his metal hand, taking the utmost care not to push too hard as he touched it. “It’s alright to be sad an’ need someone’s time, Han. You know that, right?”

“I said I am fine.” The tone of his voice was incredibly unconvincing. “These feelings are trivial. It’s nothing. Not compared to what you’ve been through because of me.”

A horrible wedge of guilt stabbed into Jesse. “Oh, darlin’, no, it ain’t trivial. Come here, sweetheart. Listen to me.” He gently guided Hanzo’s head to his shoulder, hugging him.

“I’m not going through all this alone. You’ve been just as stressed, and worried, and tired. Darlin’, your feelings matter just as much as mine.”

“It’s nothing. It doesn’t matter.” Hanzo’s voice trembled between quick breaths. 

“It does. It matters so much. You matter. I don’t know what I’d do without you, darlin’.” Jesse slowly held up Hanzo’s face until it was level with his own, and kissed him. It was soft, barely a whisper of an embrace, but it was enough to send a tear rolling down Hanzo’s cheek.

“I cannot fathom what you see in me, Jesse.” He mumbled. Jesse kissed him again, desperately trying to convey his love through the movement.

“I see a man who loves me and is havin’ trouble loving himself. I see so much kindness and love inside you, an’ I see a man so handsome it takes my breath away.” He said quietly. Hanzo took a breath so sharp it made him shudder. 

“You are so good to me.” Hanzo smiled through his tears, breathing out a shaky laugh.

“It’s what you deserve.” Jesse replied. He kissed Hanzo again, massaging his shoulder with his hand. His metal hand tried but clumsily failed to intertwine with Hanzo’s, who instead put his hand on top of it. The small gesture made Jesse’s heart feel like it was going to burst. This was all he wanted - to be able to make Hanzo happy. His mind gently tugged at that buried thought again. Hanzo’s elegant hand, with a sparkling ring on his finger…

* * *

“Jesse, please, I’m trying to cut carrots.” A smile grew on Hanzo’s face as Jesse danced behind him. The infectious music that blasted from their radio had Jesse bobbing up and down in a way that would probably be called ‘dad dancing’, a half cut spring onion abandoned on the kitchen bench. Hanzo sighed, his tapping foot betraying his disapproving smile. 

_“Wake me up before you go go,_  
_Don't leave me hanging on like a yo-yo._  
_Wake me up before you go go,_  
_I don't want to miss it when you hit that high”_

Jesse held onto Hanzo’s hips, resting his head on the shorter man's shoulder.

“Come on darlin’, won’t you dance with me?” He purred. Hanzo let a soft hum.

“Do you want dinner tonight?” He replied. Jesse chuckled.

“It can wait for a minute, can’t it?” He smiled when Hanzo turned to face him. His hands held Hanzo’s and guided him to the middle of the kitchen, swaying to the fast beat. Hanzo couldn’t help but laugh when Jesse released his hands, jammed his thumbs into his belt and started to line dance, tipping an imaginary hat at Hanzo with a grin. Spurred on by Hanzo’s laughter, Jesse did a less-than-perfect imitation of Michael Jackson. His crotch grab (along with seductive wink) made Hanzo snort.

“Come on darlin’, don’t make me dance like a fool alone!” Jesse said. He took Hanzo’s hand in his and settled his other hand on his hip.

“Jesse - I do not know how to dance!” He protested. 

“Neither do I.” Jesse replied with a smile. He gently guided Hanzo into a waltz, stepping to every other beat of the fast song.

“I do not think this music is meant for slow dancing.” Hanzo murmured with a smile.

“Are you tellin’ me to stop?”

“I never said that.” Hanzo’s hands were warm in his own. Jesse watched as his boyfriend slowly fell into the rhythm of stepping in, then out, always watching to see what Jesse did. God, he loved him. He loved the way Hanzo’s brow furrowed when he concentrated. He loved his strong shoulders, leading into arms that were muscular but so incredibly gentle. He loved the dark eyes that were watching his. Taking his breath away. On impulse, Jesse leant down and kissed Hanzo. He loved the way Hanzo’s beard scratched his own when he kissed him. How was it possible for one man to hold his heart in every way?

“I love you.” He breathed. 

“I love you too.” Hanzo murmured. The song slowly faded around them, but they kept slowly swaying, the melody of their hearts singing together more than enough. 

_Buzz!_

“Shit, hold on.” Jesse begrudgingly let go of Hanzo and fumbled to get his phone out of his pocket. Hanzo sighed and returned to cutting his carrot. 

“It’s from Angela. Damn, she typed a whole wall at me. New place… Oh, it’s about that place Winston bought.” He relayed to Hanzo. 

“What place?”

“You know, Reinhardt was talking about it. Winston’s been going around looking for places to buy an’ spruce up for more shops like the Gibraltar. Turns out he bought Angela a little place a few blocks from here. An old office. So she wants our help movin’ her medical stuff over there.”

“How kind of him.” Hanzo commented. Jesse nodded, typing furiously.

“I’d… No, We’d… Love… To.” He looked up, the text sent. “Yeah. Truth be told I still don’t know much about him. You’ve known him longer than I have - he always do stuff like this?”

“He is very benevolent.” Hanzo replied. “He sees the best in the world. I wish I could do the same. Certainly, he saw the best in me. When I first met him, I was… In a bad state. I had been shielded from the real world by my father and family, so when I left after Genji’s death, I was lost and confused. And, of course, dangerously depressed. But Winston helped me as much as he could - he gave me a job, something to live for. I can only hope to return the favour in the future.”

“I think you’re doin’ that right now, darlin’.” Jesse replied.

“How?”

“You’re a hard worker. You do your best to help people. And you’re trying to see the best in the world. Ain’t that what he wants?” Jesse replied. Hanzo’s hand paused, outstretched for another vegetable to chop.

“I… I suppose that is true.” 

“Course it is. Now, how hot does this element need to be?”

“I told you to preheat that ten minutes ago!”

“Oh yeah. Whoops.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter written only to showcase my knowledge of flower language and my love of george michael? No pfffft what are you talking about *sweats nervously*
> 
> That aside, thank you all again for continuing to read my fanfic! When I first started writing it I had no idea it would garner this much attention and it's truly heartwarming to see so many of you enjoying it. Thank you so much for reading and enjoying this little labour of love <3


	27. Moving In

“Come on, help me move this thing!” Jesse’s fingers dug into the desk’s side, the hard edge cutting into his skin. It smelled like pine - but then, so did everything he’d helped move from Angela’s, so he was getting used to it.

“Oh, sorry. Yeah, I’ve got you.” Lúcio delicately put down his bubble tea and trotted over to help Jesse. There was hardly any room in the doorway to Angela’s new place, but there was just enough leeway to get him through with a bit of wriggling. His dreadlocks bobbed energetically as he helped Jesse pull up the other side of the table.

“Does she clean this stuff every ten minutes? It stinks!” He said, wrinkling his nose. Jesse snorted and started to walk backwards into the building.

“You’re the one that spends every wednesday with her. You tell me, kid.” He replied. 

“Well, if she doesn’t, I don’t know what she does to get all this stuff smelling this bad. It’s like Dr. Ziegler drinks disinfectant.” Lúcio said. His brown eyes were wrinkled in mirth but Jesse could tell the teenager’s brain was considering the likelihood of Angela actually chugging pine-scented disinfectant. He’d only been around for the last half hour to help, but Jesse had already cottoned on to Lúcio’s general personality. He was bubbly, excited, and always dancing to an unheard beat. Always.

“Careful, dude!” Lúcio warned. His advice went unheeded and Jesse’s back bumped into a doorframe.

“Right. Give me a second…” Jesse carefully readjusted his trajectory. After a moment’s pause, he led the table (and Lúcio in tow) into the main office. He smiled over his shoulder at Angela, who was furiously scribbling on a clipboard. 

“Thank you, gentlemen.” She said with a slightly absent voice. Her violent writing finally stopped and she glanced up at them. They’d stopped in the middle of the room and were now waiting for instruction, probably looking a little dumb.

“Ah - just over there under the window would be lovely.” She directed. Fareeha, leaning next to the aforementioned window, quickly scooted herself out of the way.

“This place is like, actually nice. How much did Winston shell out for you?” She asked. Angela made an exasperated sound.

“Almost certainly too much. I don’t even have enough equipment to fill up the space! Maybe I’ll get a nice painting to light up the back wall…” She mused. Her blonde hair was scooped into a low ponytail, and her wings were loose behind her. Jesse had noticed they were indicative of her mood; right now she was relaxed, because the longest feathers of her wings trailed a little on the ground.

“Yeah, that’d be cute. Maybe some flowers or something. You like flowers?” Fareeha was clearly trying to sound casual. It was like a scene out of a sitcom - she leant on the nearest wall and exuded waves of awkward attraction. Lúcio and Jesse exchanged a knowing glance.

“Ah, yes. I think my favourite are probably sunflowers.” Angela replied, apparently oblivious to Fareeha’s clumsy forwardness. If they were in a cartoon, Fareeha’s face would have slowly filled with boiling red. As it was, she went pink and looked at Jesse with an expression that said ‘what do I do?’. Jesse nodded ever so slightly in Angela’s gesture. When Fareeha just went redder, he mouthed ‘ask on a date!’. 

“Uh, hey Ange.” Fareeha sidled up a little closer to Angela. She looked up from her clipboard quizzically, pushing a stray lock of hair from her eyes.

“What you think about-”

_Knock knock!_

Ah, dammit. Fareeha looked ready to explode. Jesse sighed quietly and walked to the office’s front door. It was through a small foyer and made of painted wood, stout and white. He pulled the door open, and found Lena outside. Clad in jeans and her bomber jacket, she was grinning widely at Jesse.

“Hello, love!” She chirped, already walking in. “How’s everything going? Thought I’d come in and help a bit.”

“Hey, Lena. We’re just draggin’ in some stuff right now.” He nearly had to jog to keep up with her.

“Ah yeah? Must be a lot of stuff to move in.”

“Lúcio and Fareeha are here too, so we’re getting it done pretty quick.”

“Lúcio?” Lena questioned. She burst into the main office room, with Jesse trundling in after her.

“Hi everyone!” She said with a grin. Her eyes quickly found Lúcio, who gave her a small wave. “I suppose you’re Lúcio?”

She didn’t wait for a response. Instead she dug into her jacket pocket, and after a moment of rooting around, proudly pulled out several blue cards.

“Wedding invitations!” She declared proudly. She handed them out at a furious pace to everyone except Lúcio, who looked mystified.

“Thanks! Preparations going well?” Angela asked. Lena’s smiled faded a little bit.

“It’s… stressful.” She confessed. “Jesse, you and Hanzo have been absolute ducks helping with the flowers, but there’s so much to do yet. Just these invitations took so long to prepare! A lot of Emily’s family are still in England so we had to get addresses, post everything, all that rubbish. We haven’t even gone dress shopping yet!”

“I’m sure it’s gonna go great.” Fareeha said, punching Lena’s arm. “You need anything, I’m happy to help. I haven’t touched makeup in my life, but I bet I could do your hair up real nice on the day.” She offered.

“Thanks, love.” Lena’s beam was back in full force. Then she turned to Jesse. “Anywho - could I talk to you alone for a minute, love?”

Angela pushed herself off the wall she was leaning on. “Well, it’s about time for afternoon tea anyway. How about I put the kettle on?”

Lena flashed a final smile at her, then tugged on Jesse’s arm. She led him out of the office and into the foyer. It was a pretty small area - there was only enough space for two waiting chairs and a tiny desk - but it already felt homely, with soft yellow lighting and a worn welcome mat under the door. Lena let go of Jesse’s arm and they fell to her sides. Only now did he notice the dark circles under her eyes, the more-unkempt-than-usual hair.

“What’s this about, then? Is everything alright?” Jesse asked. Lena’s expression felt strained, and he tried to guess what had happened. Wedding preparations gone wrong? Lena let out a small laugh.

“Oh, I’m not talking to you about anything wrong, love. Sorry, I’m just - I’m just really stressed right now. It’s a lot more work than I thought it would be, you know?” She raked a hand through her hair. “Emily’s an absolute doll with organising things, but I’m right terrible. We set the date pretty close, so we have a lot to do…” She sniffled, a tear escaping from her eye. 

“Hey now. It’s alright to be stressed.” Jesse hugged her. She was so small that he was almost afraid of crushing her, but she clearly appreciated the gesture, hugging him back tightly. Eventually her sniffles halted and Jesse let go. Lena took a deep breath, wiped her cheeks and smiled.

“Sorry, love. I’m here for good news, really. You know how usually a lady has a hen night before her wedding, and goes off with her friends - well, Emily’s having one with her workmates, but I don’t really have many lady friends besides Angela. So I thought, why don’t I just go out to a bar with a couple of mates? I was thinking you, Hanzo, Reinhardt and Angela, but you don’t have to. I know it’d be hard with Hanzo’s whole romance thing.” She said mournfully. Jesse nodded.

“Lena, I know we’d both love to. I’m sure we can find somewhere out of the way, right? Or it could just be the three of us, and we can go to a gay bar.” He suggested. Lena nodded. 

“How about I poke my nose into a couple of places and call you tonight?” She said. 

“Sounds like a plan.” Jesse replied with a grin. There was a knock on the door behind them, and Lúcio’s head popped through.

“You guys better come quick if you want any carrot cake!”

* * *

“A bar.”

“Yeah. Can’t really do much else if we want to bring Reinhardt along.” Jesse replied. He and Hanzo were eating dinner - overly salty fish and chips - and so far, it didn’t sound like Hanzo was charmed with the concept of Lena’s hen night. He looked at Jesse skeptically as he drowned his piece of fish in lemon.

“You realise that is not a good idea for me.” He said, wringing every last drop of liquid from the lemon half.

“Yeah, me n’ Lena talked about that. We thought about going to a gay bar as the three of us, but I think she’d rather bring everyone along, you know? Don’t worry about it, darlin’. We’ll work something out.” Jesse said. Hanzo remained unconvinced.

“I do not see how.” He spiked a chip with his fork. He was the first person Jesse had ever seen who ate fish and chips with a fork - although, it would have been weirder if he hadn’t. Hanzo eating with his hands felt like a foreign concept.

“I don’t know.” Jesse mumbled. “She said she’d phone me tonight, so I guess we’ll find out soon.”

Hanzo swallowed a chip, then huffed. “I _really_ do not think that will come to fruition.” 

Jesse ruffled, slightly annoyed. “Han, it’s her hen night. We’ve got to do somethin’ with her! What if it’s just a little place, out of the way?”

Hanzo made the sort of grimace one makes when they’ve eaten a sour mandarin. He clearly looked ready to argue further, but Jesse’s phone ringing cut her off.

“Speak of the devil.” Jesse muttered. He fished his phone out of his pocket and held it to his ear. Hanzo watched him critically.

“Hey, Lena. Any good news? Yeah… Mhmm… Perfect!” He looked at Hanzo smugly. “Right. Sounds good. That soon? Alrighty. Hanzo’s gonna love it.” Hanzo folded his arms and huffed, a small smile on his lips. 

“Okay then. See you round.” Jesse turned off his phone, and grinned smugly at Hanzo.

“Told you she’d find a place. Turns out a little place near Reinhardt’s is doing a masquerade night next saturday. It’ll be perfect, darlin’! You can wear a big mask an’ nobody will even see you.” He declared. Hanzo mulled over this for a while. After a quiet moment, he sighed.

“I suppose I have to.” He relented. Jesse grinned.

“I knew you would in the end, darlin’. An’ I promise it won’t be like that mall fiasco.” He said firmly. He crammed far too much fish into his mouth as Hanzo sighed again.

“I hope not…” His eyebrows furrowed. He ate a few more chips silently.

“Arlin’, donf offerfin’ it!” Jesse mumbled through his fish. He swallowed his mouthful with a mild struggle, then coughed at the saltiness. “I mean, don’t overthink it, Han. It’ll be alright. I’ll be there, an’ I don’t think anyone will try to make trouble when Reinhardt’s around. It’ll just be a fun night out.” He said. Hanzo’s expression softened.

“I will try not to worry. But please, swallow before you try to speak.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, this chapter is a little short! It's a bit smol because I'm excited to write the next chapter and wanted to get on with it :P so i hope you're all excited for the hen night ;3c


	28. Hen Night

They had spent nearly a whole afternoon making the masks. The saturday morning of the hen night, Jesse went out and bought mask bases, some cheap paints, and a ridiculous amount of sequins, feathers and other paraphernalia. Buying the masks had taken some thought - what would cover Hanzo’s face the most? In the end he’d settled on a small mask for himself, and a phantom of the opera-esque one for Hanzo. While it didn’t cover all of his face, it would hopefully do the job.

“Darlin’, can I see you now?” He asked, rapping his knuckles on the bedroom door. He held his mask in his hands, finger idly running over the edge of rhinestones. His mask was a cool blue, decorated with shining silver gemstones. It was a simple thing, but it suited his outfit - his most respectable clothes (which weren’t terribly respectable).

“Just a second. I look silly…” Hanzo’s voice floated through the door.

“I’m sure you don’t, darlin’.” Jesse replied firmly. Hanzo audibly muttered something in Japanese, then the door opened.

“Holy shit…” Jesse breathed. It was certainly Hanzo standing in front of him. But somehow, he was more handsome than ever. His mask was black with immaculate gold trimming, and carefully placed black feathers that blended in with his long black hair that was loose around his shoulders. He, too, was wearing his most elegant clothes, and they made him look nothing short of divine. 

“It’s terrible, isn’t it.” Hanzo adjusted his mask slightly.

“No. No, Han, you’re so damn handsome right now.” Jesse replied, reaching up to stroke a hand down the back of Hanzo’s hair, bringing him closer.

“You look like you just walked out of heaven, darlin’.” He murmured. It was a little hard with their masks in the way, but he kissed Hanzo with driven fervour. Hanzo held him closely, pushing into the kiss. They finally broke apart just enough to speak.

“The angel here is you.” Hanzo replied softly. His hand rose to Jesse’s cheek, thumb trailing across the edge of Jesse’s mask as he kissed him again. Hands roamed, kisses became more passionate - then Jesse yelped and pulled out his phone.

“Shit, we’re gonna be late!”

* * *

“Are you sure this is the right street?” Hanzo muttered. 

“Ah, I think so.” Jesse replied, glancing around the quiet road. The moon, half full and bright in the sky, lit the street around them in cool blue. Every so often the darkness was broken by the glare of a streetlight, but for the most part it was just them, the cool wind, and the sparkling constellations above. Jesse’s roaming eyes finally fell on a street sign a few metres ahead.

“Yeah, we’re on the right track.” He reassured Hanzo, who nodded in response. His hand was gripped tightly in Jesse’s, betraying his nervous energy. 

“It’s going to be alright, darlin’.” Jesse said quietly. His voice was almost lost underneath their rapid footsteps and the shrill whisper of the breeze.

“I know.” Hanzo replied. His relentless grip didn’t waver. Although his mask was gripped in his other hand, Hanzo’s face was obscured by his loose hair. Jesse loved it down. He loved how it was glossy and made him look incredibly dignified, as if he were gilded royalty. At the moment, however, it wasn’t letting him see how Hanzo felt. Instead, he gave his attention to the landscape around them.

The street was drenched in cool black and blue, only occasionally punctuated by soft yellow light. They had reached an empty road to cross and Jesse could see the bar in the distance. Its neon sign almost seemed to float in the darkness. As they walked closer, the square form of the bar came into view. The glass door opened with a gentle push. As soon as they were inside, they were enveloped in comfortingly warm air. Jesse glanced around the bar, trying to single out Lena. Everyone was wearing masks - this might be difficult.

“My friends!” Oh, no it wouldn’t. They turned to see Reinhardt’s gigantic form lumbering towards them. His face was hidden by a grey mask, but his booming voice was unmistakeable. Jesse quickly put on his own mask, and Hanzo did the same. Reinhardt was quickly upon them, and he slapped Jesse on the back heartily.

“Are you ready for the best night of your lives?” He said with a grin. “Come on, Lena and Angela are already here. They managed to find a nice quiet place at the back.” 

He led the two through a small crowd of people. It wasn’t too many people - but then again, it was a bar on saturday night. Hanzo kept his grip on Jesse’s hand throughout the walk. Pop music streamed throughout the bar, although it was comforting background noise at most. Through the group of people, Hanzo and Jesse found themselves at the back of the bar, where there were several booths and tables. Although it had been consistently referred to as a bar, Jesse now realised it was almost more of a lounge - tables that probably served meals during the day were now scattered with wine bottles. Sitting at the table closest to the back wall was Angela and Lena, already halfway through a basket of chips.

“Hey, loves! Glad you could make it!” Lena beamed, half a chip still in her mouth. She was wearing a bright orange mask that seemed to glow even in the bar’s lighting. Angela was more reserved, with a pleasant purple mask adorned with short feathers.

“You’re both lookin’ lovely today.” Jesse said with a wink as he sat down. Lena giggled.

“You’re at my bloody hen night, Jesse! Don’t you start flirting now.” She laughed. Jesse shuffled over in his booth so Hanzo could sit down.

“All tongue in cheek, I promise.” Jesse assured her. “Now, anywhere a man can get a drink around here?”

Quicker than Jesse had expected, a beer sat in front of him. He intended to go easy on the drink tonight; it seemed that the others had different plans, however. Lena grinned evilly at the lurid cocktail in front of her, Angela was already drinking from a piña colada, and Reinhardt was animatedly quizzing the bartender on German beers. Even Hanzo was cupping a cocktail, which surprised Jesse.

“Last time we went out drinking, you didn’t have anything.” He said curiously. “Any reason why you’re having some now?”

Hanzo paused for a while before answering.

“Last time, I was still uncomfortable around you - and Lena, to an extent. Now you are family.” He replied. Jesse smiled. 

“Well, I’ll drink to that.” He replied, taking a swig from his bottle. Hanzo, too, took a tentative sip of his drink. He couldn’t help but wonder - what kind of a drunk was Hanzo?

* * *

“Jesse, you are so handsome…” Hanzo’s hand trailed up Jesse’s arm, making Jesse’s cheeks flush red. 

“Come on now, Han. That ain’t very decent. Best not have any more to drink, don’t you think?” He replied, gently batting away Hanzo’s hand. Hanzo made a sound of disappointment, leaning on Jesse instead.

“I am being decent.” He huffed. He nuzzled into Jesse’s arm, then pulled away. His hands fumbled at his face, then pulled off his mask.

“It’s too hot.” He declared loudly. Jesse rolled his eyes. Hanzo wasn’t very Hanzo-y when he was drunk. He glanced up at Angela and Lena. Angela seemed deep in concentration staring at Lena, who was snorting with laughter at something Reinhardt had said.

“And I’m staring up at him - this close to him! - and he yells, ‘HASSELHOFF!’” Reinhardt roared, making Lena collapse into hysterics again. Jesse couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He felt strangely like a babysitter…

“Jesseeee, kiss me.” Hanzo complained from beside him. Jesse obligingly went to give him a quick kiss, but found himself captured in Hanzo’s arms. Hanzo’s kiss was passionate, and very clumsy. Jesse extracted himself from the embrace as gently as he could.

“Darlin’, you’re drunk. How about I get you a glass of water.” He suggested. Hanzo let out a string of Japanese as Jesse left the booth. While he had to admit, Hanzo being so unusually affectionate was a bit of a turn on - it would be better if he collected himself a bit.

“Hey, partner. Could I get a glass of water for my friend?” He flashed a smile at the bartender. A few moments later, a glass was handed to him, and he trundled back to the motly group. Angela was still staring at Lena in avid, if absent, concentration, but now it was Lena who was talking avidly to Reinhardt. There was, however, a worrying lack of Hanzo. Where Hanzo had been sitting was empty.

“Angela, where did Hanzo go?” Jesse asked. Angela blinked and glanced at him.

“Ah… He left?” She stared at Jesse blankly. He sighed and slid the glass of water to her.

“Drink this. I’m going to go find him.” He replied. She nodded slowly, her fervent concentration now on the drink in front of her. He took a step back from the booth, and glanced around the bar. There weren’t so many people around, but those that were had become rowdy, and with the amount of dark masks…

He was getting very worried.

He started to push his way through the crowd. Where would he have gone? He had drunk a lot, who knows what he was thinking. Had he gone to follow Jesse, but become sidetracked? Jesse found himself on the other side of the bar, near the door. He pushed it open and shivered at the blast of cold air. He walked out, looking around nervously. He wasn’t outside.

_Thunk!_

A muffled sound caught his attention. It sounded like it was coming from around the side. Jesse hesitantly wandered out further.

“Hanzo?” He called. The bar was crammed between two other buildings, but there was a thin alleyway on its left side.

_Thud!_

Jesse was running now. He skidded around the corner and gasped.

“Hanzo!” Oh, god. 

Hanzo stood, back against the bar’s wall, legs bent and head hung low as a man in front of him reared his hand back to punch. Jesse broke into a sprint, but even as he ran, and a horrified yell tumbled from his lips, he knew he wasn’t fast enough.

_Thump!_

Hanzo crumpled.

“Get away from him!” Jesse yelled, throwing himself at the man. He shoved him away forcefully and he staggered back.

“Your fucking friend tried to steal my chick.” The man slurred. He was drunk. And dangerous. Jesse felt cold fear flood through his veins. Nevertheless, his hands balled into fists.

“Stay away from him.” He snarled. He reared his hand back to strike, and the guy stumbled back.

“Ah-right. Calm down, man. Your friend got what he deserved.” He muttered, staggering back more. Jesse glared at him for a moment longer. Oh, shit, Hanzo. He was sliding down the wall, head dropped low. Jesse rushed to him and grabbed him just as his legs buckled completely.

“I… I didn’t…” Hanzo croaked, looking up at Jesse. A dark bruise was beginning to blossom on his cheek, underneath glazed eyes that didn’t seem to register the pain he must be in.

“Oh god, Hanzo, I’m so sorry…” Jesse murmured, horrible guilt building inside him. This was his fault. It was just like last time. He’d pressured Hanzo, and this time he’d been _attacked_. Hanzo kept staring at him with vacant eyes. Attacked.

Because of Jesse.

“Let’s go home. God, I’m so sorry…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why do I do this to my boys :,^)


	29. Purple Bruise, Seeing Red

“Jesse, I’m cold…”

“I know, darlin’. We’re almost home now, just a little longer.” Jesse murmured. Hanzo hung limply from his arm, his drunkenness betrayed by the irregular sound of his footsteps. That, and his head hanging down between his shoulders. In the dim light of the neon signs around them, Jesse could see a thin line of blood dripping down Hanzo’s cheek. Mortified guilt gnawed at him, colder than the wind and biting rain. He’d been so dismissive of Hanzo’s feelings. He’d promised this wouldn’t happen! What use was he if he couldn’t even keep his boyfriend safe?

Hanzo stumbled. Jesse gripped his arm tightly, pulling him up again.

“Come on Han, we’re so close to home.” He tried to make his voice sound encouraging. A car raced past, sending up a flume of rain that soaked Jesse’s leg. He swore under his breath and Hanzo’s head tilted upwards. Out of the shadows, Jesse could now see the dark bruise on his cheek. Blood was dribbling from the corner of his mouth. Had he bit his tongue? His hair, tinted blue in the harsh neon, was plastered to his head from the rain. God, what had he done...

It took an eternity to reach their apartment. Jesse fumbled with the key. The lock jittered through teary, tired eyes. Click. The door finally swung open. Jesse immediately bundled Hanzo inside, flicking on the lights as he guided him to the couch. 

“I did not flirt with her. Please do not be angry with me.” Hanzo mumbled. Oh no, he was blaming himself.

“I know, I know. I ain’t angry with you, I promise. I could never be angry with you. God. I’m sorry.” Jesse was babbling, his voice fast and wavering. Hanzo was visibly shivering so he shifted closer, gently starting to peel off his soaked jacket. It felt terrible, sitting there and carefully undressing his nearly comatose boyfriend. As soon as Hanzo was shedded of his jacket, shoes and socks, Jesse carried him bridal-style to the bedroom. His eyes were half-open and his hands clutched Jesse’s soaked shirt weakly. 

“Come on, let’s get you warm and dry.” Jesse said. 

It took a while - especially with Hanzo seeming to be either in shock or just unbelievably tired, his limbs limp and heavy - but finally Jesse had manoeuvred him into dry pyjamas. He’d thrown on some dry clothes himself, too. He brushed a stray lock of hair from Hanzo’s face, and kissed his forehead.

“I’m sorry, darlin’. I’m so sorry. Let’s get you into bed.” He said. Hanzo gave a tiny nod and let Jesse guide him under the bedsheets. He hadn’t noticed it before, but Jesse found that his hands were shaking. He was cold, yes - damn near freezing - but he knew it wasn’t from that. It was from how his lungs constricted at the sight of Hanzo’s purple cheek. It was from the memory of yesterday, fully convinced that he would be able to keep Hanzo safe. It was from every time something like this must have happened to Hanzo before he knew him. Had he even made a change? He tore his eyes away from the bed and walked into the kitchen. 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” He swore at himself under his breath, his hands fumbling in the fridge for anything to drink. The allure of liquor in the bar had been weak, but now he needed something to calm himself desperately. His hand closed around a bottle of Hanzo’s sake. Normally he thought the stuff was vile. Now he found himself pouring a glass. 

Down the hatch. Nearly gagging from the taste. Unable to wait for the next drink.

* * *

He woke up late. Mockingly cold sunlight forced his eyes open and he had to squint as his sight adjusted. He was slumped on the couch, an empty glass on the floor below him beside a significantly less full bottle of sake. He stared straight ahead at his dormant television. God, he just wanted to be asleep again; a powerful headache was thrumming in his mind. As well as that, last night burned like a bonfire in his memory.

Hanzo.

Was he alright? Was he awake? The rush of fear was enough to make Jesse pull himself to his feet. He walked to the bedroom and stuck his head around the corner nervously. Hanzo still lay in bed, messy hair fanned out around his head. At least he didn’t have to confront him about last night yet. Jesse padded away from the bedroom and into the bathroom. 

“Damn.” He looked… Well, like shit. Frighteningly dark bags hung under each of his bloodshot eyes, perfectly framing the flecks of Hanzo’s blood that had managed to get on his cheeks. His shirt was on backwards. He put it on properly and noticed that his hair was all over the place - and his prosthetic arm was sneering at him. After a moment’s struggle he took it off. He stared at himself, now holding his own arm, and waggled it back and forth so it waved. God, he was tired.

_Creak!_

The bed springs creaking caught Jesse’s attention. Then his stomach twisted into knots. What did he say to Hanzo? He crept out of the bathroom nervously. As he walked into the lounge room, he was greeted with Hanzo’s back. He tried to speak, but every word was caught in the back of his throat. Maybe if he stayed there, unable to see Hanzo’s face, it would be like yesterday didn’t happen. Instead, as if sensing his presence, Hanzo turned around.

“Good morning.” He said. His cheek held its bruise almost proudly. He looked just as tired as Jesse, with deep marks engraved under his eyes and a dull pallour to his skin. 

“Morning.” Jesse replied. He was still holding his metal hand; he put it down on the kitchen bench, watching Hanzo warily. He didn’t know what to say.

“Hanzo, I -”

“Do not apologise.” Hanzo cut him off. “I do not appreciate insincerity.”

If words could physically injure, Jesse would have been bleeding a river. His throat constricted at the sheer bitterness in Hanzo’s voice.

“I - I am bein’ sincere, Han! I didn’t expect anything like this to happen. I’m sorry.” Jesse replied, trying to keep his voice calm. Hanzo glared at him.

“I do not know if you have noticed, but I am in a very bad mood. Twice, in a very short timespan, I have been forcefully put into a highly unpleasant situation. The first time ended in me feeling severly uncomfortable. The second time, if I remember correctly, led to me being attacked.” Hanzo snarled. “So forgive me if right now, I am feeling betrayed.”

Jesse felt hot shame burning his cheeks. “I know. I’ve been pushy recently, an’ I’ve been excited about Lena’s weddin’ and -”

“I told you to stop it.” Hanzo snapped. “You don’t understand how it feels. To be stared at. To be lusted at every time you dare step outside. I walk on eggshells every day of my life, waiting for the next abuse to be thrown at me. And I have found it, crafted by my friends’ hands. You didn’t listen to me!”

Jesse had never seen him this openly angry, and it was starting to scare him. He watched as Hanzo’s eyes slid to the bottle of sake lying on the lounge floor. His lip curled in disgust. Jesse finally saw red.

“Stop throwin’ fucking blame around! This was a horrible accident, alright? Nobody could have predicted this!” He growled. “Can’t you see I feel like shit about this too? God damn it.”

He snatched his phone up from the kitchen counter, jammed it in his pocket, and stormed over to the front door. 

“I’m staying with Fareeha tonight.” 

_Slam!_

* * *

The walk to Fareeha’s was originally filled with pointless, bubbling anger. There were so many conflicting thoughts in Jesse’s mind that only two rose to the surface:

_A) This is all my fault_  
_B) I need a drink_

He found that he hated himself for both thoughts. Hanzo was right. It was his fault, and Hanzo had every right to be mad. But he didn’t have to be such a dick about it!

Eventually the anger faded to frustration, then to depression. As Jesse found himself standing in front of Fareeha’s door, his mind cycled over and over again on the fateful moment. The taste of the cold air, the icy touch of the wind, the jarring thud of a fist connecting with Hanzo’s cheek. He reached up and knocked on the door.

“Yoo hoo?” A scratchy intercom buzzed.

“It’s Jesse.” A moment later and the door swung open. Fareeha’s dark face was originally split by a massive grin, but one look at Jesse made it wobble into a frown.

“What’s wrong? You’d, uh, better come in.” She said, waving him in. Jesse accepted gladly, walked into the apartment that used to be Hanzo’s not long ago. It was, impressively, already completely different, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

“Come on big bro, what’s wrong?” Fareeha leant against a nearby wall, looking at Jesse concernedly. He rubbed his chin, trying to compose himself.

“Lena’s hen night yesterday…” He began. Fareeha raised an eyebrow.

“Did something happen?” She leant in her eyebrows furrowed. “Is that blood?”

Jesse sighed. “Don’t worry about me, Fari. It’s Hanzo.”

As he recounted the events of yesterday and that morning to Fareeha, he felt his skin crawl. He wanted so badly to sugar coat what had happened, to make himself sound better, but he didn’t. He told her of the flower shop, of Hanzo getting drunk, the punch. Fareeha listened intently, her face betraying nothing of what she thought. When Jesse’s story concluded, she took a deep breath.

“Okay. So, that’s pretty shitty. But you know it isn’t your fault, right?” She said. 

“Don’t try and make me feel better. I know I fucked up, Hanzo’s right for being angry at me.” Jesse grumbled in reply.

“Dude, shut up. I’m saying that because it’s the truth.” Fareeha shot back. “Neither of you knew it would happen, right? And then this morning, you both have hangovers, you’re both in bad moods - I’ve seen Hanzo around you. He might look stern, but that guy’s head over heels for you. I don’t think he’s really that mad at you.” 

Jesse considered this quietly. As he did, Fareeha trundled to her couch and plopped down on it, so Jesse did the same.

“I think you guys just need some time to cool off.” She suggested. “You can stay the night here if you want.”

“Thanks. Just - please, please don’t tell Angela or Lena about this. They don’t know yet and I don’t want Lena’s hen night to be ruined.” Jesse begged. 

“Alright, say no more. I won’t. But only if sometime today you text Hanzo and try to get over your argument with him.” She replied. Text Hanzo? Jesse shuffled nervously.

“I don’t think he’d want me to…” He said feebly. Fareeha’s dry glance made him sigh.

“Fine. Just… Not now.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to. Right now, what you need is a shower. No offense, big bro, but you smell awful.”

* * *

The day was spent watching movies. It had made Jesse somewhat uncomfortable at first, being in the apartment that was originally Hanzo’s, but he soon got over it. As his hangover lessened and the uncomfortable humour of Napoleon Dynamite calmed his tense nerves, he managed to work through his emotions in part. Of course, Fareeha had been right. Their spat had been born of their painful hangovers and the shock from last night. That didn’t remove, however, the pain of the words that Hanzo had flung at him. His mind reeled when he recounted Hanzo’s blazing anger, or the mulberry bruise on his cheek. 

“Jesse?”

“Huh?” He was pulled back into reality by Fareeha’s voice. She was standing up, looking at him expectantly.

“I said, let’s go get dinner. I’m thinking chinese takeout.” She repeated. Jesse nodded, pulling himself to his feet.

“Sounds good. Hey, speakin’ of buying things - you got a job, Fari?” He asked. She laughed and nodded.

“Yeah. I found a place down the road that was looking for a waitress, so I’m doing weekday evenings. Angela said I could do secretary work when her medical centre’s all set up, but that’s still a ways off.” She continued. “No matter what I’m doing, it’s more fun than back down in New Mexico.”

“I’m glad about that.” Jesse said. Fareeha handed him a brown jacket, which he accepted gratefully, then followed her out of the apartment. 

Outside, day was slowly slipping into night, resting at the time when the sky was orange and the silhouettes of buildings were inky black. The cold air was a refreshing change, too. Worry still hung over Jesse like a cloud, but the gut-wrenching sting was gone. The takeout shop was only a block away, a dinky little place that exuded yellow light and smelled of comfortably fatty food. As Fareeha ordered, Jesse found a chair to slump into. He fished his phone out of his pocket. He should text Hanzo. He knew that. What mattered was whether he could.

He opened their line of past messages. It was mostly questions about what Hanzo wanted from the grocers, or where each other were. Jesse sighed and started to write a message.

_I’m sorry about this morning, Han <3_

Too short? Was the heart too trivial? 

_I’m sorry about this morning, Han. Do you want me to call and we can talk about it?_

He worried about the message for a few more moments, then sent it before he could chicken out. Fareeha wandered over with a receipt in her hand.

“Texting Hanzo?” She asked. Jesse nodded.

“I just hope he isn’t still angry at me tomorrow at work.”

“He won’t be. Don’t worry about it, big bro.” Fareeha replied. Jesse nodded - but internally he felt dread blossom. He still felt guilty about what had happened, but his thoughts were a mixture of blaming himself and frustration at Hanzo. He didn’t expect Hanzo to answer the text. He’d just have to face him tomorrow, and worry about it until then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;O; I'm so sorry that I'm making them angsty I can't seem to help it ;w;
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! It took a little while but I think it ended up pretty good -3- 
> 
> Also!!! 10,000 hits!! Thank you so much everybody, it means so much to me :D


	30. Tell me everything, dear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING!!! This chapter contains potentially triggering content! If you are likely to be affected by descriptions of self harm, this chapter probably isn't for you! (However, the latter part of the chapter past the horizontal bar is safe!)

“Morning, Lena.” Jesse forced a smile onto his face as he greeted Lena. She waved at him from behind the counter.

“Morning, love! Enjoy our night out? I figure you and Hanzo left early because, you know, you got bitten by the love bug.” She winked. Jesse gave her a wry smile.

“Something like that. Is he here?” He asked.

“Yeah, he came in a few minutes ago. Had one of those face masks on - I figure he’s sick. How come you two didn’t come in together today?”

“Oh, I uh, had to make a detour.” Jesse replied. Lena returned to making a coffee, clearly satisfied with this answer.

“Okay! Well, you better get down to the kitchen; today’s been a great day for apple turnovers, so Reinhardt needs all the help he can get!” She said with a chuckle. Jesse nodded. He could feel Lena watching him as he descended the cafe’s stairs. Could she see through his lies? He sure as hell hoped not. He also wondered whether she was questioning where his prosthetic arm was. It certainly felt weird being at the cafe without his arm on - his left arm felt far too light - but he would have had to go back to his apartment to fetch it, and that would have meant confronting Hanzo. At the bottom of the stairs he paused. Go help Reinhardt in the kitchen, or go talk to Hanzo? Like Jesse had expected, he hadn’t replied to Jesse’s text, so maybe he didn’t want to talk. 

Or - and he knew it was the truth - he was trying to talk himself out of facing Hanzo. Finally his legs kicked into gear, navigating him to the hot kitchen. The loud music, scent of spiced apple, and faded light welcomed him warmly. Reinhardt greeted him with a wave, hand covered in flour. 

“Good morning!” He roared, his voice heard easily despite the blasting disco music. Jesse gave him a small wave back. 

“Reinhardt, can you turn the music off for a second?” He yelled back. Reinhardt raised his eyebrows but turned off his CD player.

“Is something wrong?” He asked. He wiped his hands on his apron, smearing flour down the printed image of a woman’s body.

“Sort of. After Lena’s night out, me an’ Hanzo had a bit of a - a fallin’ out. I really need to go talk to him. Are you alright without me for a few minutes?” He asked. Reinhardt grinned and nodded.

“Not a problem. Take all the time you need.” He replied with a wink. Jesse gave him a grateful look, then stepped out of the kitchen. Even though he closed the door, he could still hear it quite clearly when Reinhardt turned his music back on. Some things never change. He changed direction and started to walk towards the cafe’s archive room. He approached the door, his hand hovering over the doorknob. A rectangular slab of wood had never been so intimidating. 

“Give me strength, Ana.” He murmured, turning the doorknob. She’d never approve of him stalling for time. 

The door opened with a creak. Jesse was immediately hit by that now-familiar scent of musty books, although he did notice that the room was cleaner than the last time he’d been in there. He no longer had to carefully judge each step as he walked towards the back of the room, where he knew Hanzo was working. Sure enough, he could see Hanzo’s inky form hunched over his desk. 

“Darlin’.” Jesse said. Hanzo didn’t react. Jesse walked closer.

“I’m sorry about yesterday. Are you ready to talk about it?” He asked. Hanzo shifted slightly, as if to look over his shoulder, but Jesse still couldn’t see his face. Jesse reached out with his left arm, cursed silently as he remembered he wasn’t wearing his prosthetic, reached out with his right. Hanzo flinched when his hand touched his shoulder.

“Sweetheart?” Jesse went to stand by his side, but Hanzo turned instead to face him. The yellow light caught his face. Somehow, Hanzo’s face looked more bony and angular than it ever had before. Dark lines were etched under his eyes, contrasted against his sickly pale skin. The awful bruise was still on his cheek, a sickening plum shade. A face mask was pulled down around his neck. Jesse’s heart felt crushed when he realised there were tears rolling down Hanzo’s cheeks. 

“Jesse.” Hanzo’s voice was carefully neutral. He stood up and stared at Jesse. Jesse’s attention was caught by Hanzo tugging on his own jumper sleeve.

“Han, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for yellin’ and for stomping out, I’m sorry for all of it.” Jesse stammered. Hanzo looked at him sullenly.

“You do not need to apologise.” He muttered. “Yesterday’s argument was my fault. I was rude and insulted you. I’m - I’m sorry.” The tugging at his sleeve continued. Jesse frowned and held Hanzo’s hand.

“Both of us were at fault.” Jesse replied. “I guess there’s no point playin’ the blame game. I - Han, what in hell are you doing?” He motioned to Hanzo’s sleeve. Hanzo jerked his hand away.

“Nothing.” He leant away from Jesse. Jesse responded by gripping his hand. Hanzo watched silently as Jesse slowly slid his sleeve up.

“Oh, Han…” Red crescent-shaped marks covered Hanzo’s arm. Some of the marks, clearly inflicted by fingernails, were rosy and irritated. A few were much deeper, however, and surrounded by smeared blood. Jesse felt tears build in his eyes.

“God, sweetheart, come here.” He pulled Hanzo into a hug. Hanzo immediately broke down into sobs, his shoulders jerking with each breath. Jesse felt immeasurable guilt build in his gut. Hanzo had been alone for all of yesterday, with only his demons to talk to. Jesse should have stayed, should have kept his cool - no. He forced the thoughts out of his head. There was no changing the past. At least he was here now.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Hanzo whispered into Jesse’s shoulder. 

“It’s alright, Han. It’s okay. I’m here. And I ain’t ever gonna walk off like that again. Take a deep breath. Let’s go get this cleaned up, alright?” He said. Hanzo nodded. Jesse held his hand, kissed his forehead, and started to lead him out of the room. Hanzo was still crying, his silent sobs wracking his body. At the door, Jesse turned around and pulled Hanzo into another hug. Hanzo gripped him tightly, his strong muscles crushing Jesse.

“You are so kind. I don’t know what I would do without you. I love you.” He mumbled. Jesse stroked his hair.

“I love you too, Han.” He replied. He opened the door and stuck his head out. Nobody around. With Hanzo trailing behind him, Jesse jogged the distance to the staff bathrooms. He wrinkled his nose at the pungent pine smell. It was almost as bad as Angela’s place. Hanzo followed him, quietly closing the door behind him. Jesse turned on the tap, filling the room with the soothing noise of running water as Hanzo gingerly rolled up his sleeve. 

For a few moments, Jesse worked in silence. He washed away the drying blood and rinsed the shallower marks too - hopefully it would counteract the uncomfortable-looking irritation. After the moments of reflection, Hanzo took a deep breath.

“When you left.” He began. He paused again, clearly trying to compose himself. “When you left, I blamed myself. I - I realise now that you are right. Both of us were at fault. But I love you. I could not bring myself to truly be angry at you, so… I suppose I turned on myself.”

“It feels impossible to keep going sometimes. To face everything. But - but I know that you’re here for me. That makes it bearable.” He said. Jesse smiled sadly.

“I’m glad I can make your life better.” He replied. “Now, darlin’ - this ain’t something I can take lightly. You need to see someone about this.”

Hanzo seemed to go through an instant change. His arm twitched a little as he jerked it back then forced it to stay still. His expression transformed from exhausted to guarded.

“I do not need to. This will not happen again. Anyway, you are all I need.” He said. Jesse raised a suspicious eyebrow.

“Han, you can’t just brush this off.” He replied. “Hell, I’ve been to therapy before. After I moved to Canada, I was jumpy. Nervous, paranoid even. Went with Lucas to get some help, an’ they told me I had PTSD. It was - well, it was a hell of a step in the right direction just to know what was wrong. They’ll be able to help you too.” 

“I do not think so.” He muttered. He took a deep breath. “Please, can we discuss this some other time?”

Jesse grabbed the bathroom’s hand towel and started to dry Hanzo’s arm. “Alright. But you’ve got to promise to talk to me. Tell me when you’re feeling like this, like there ain’t anything right in the universe. You can’t bottle it all up. It gets out somehow, but you’ve got to try to control how and when.” He said. Hanzo nodded, his tired eyes dropping to stare at the floor.

“Thank you. I love you so much…” It barely came out as a whisper. He leant his head against Jesse’s chest. Their breath fell into a rhythm, rising and falling like the tide. 

Eventually Jesse held Hanzo by the shoulders and pulled away just enough to stare into his dark brown eyes.

“How about you help me in the kitchen today?” He said. “You won’t have to be away from me for a single second.”

“I would like that. Thank you, Jesse.”

“Anything for you, darlin’.”

* * *

The rest of the day went as smoothly as it could have. Reinhardt was unsurprisingly worried about the bruise on Hanzo’s cheek, but Jesse quickly explained it as Hanzo falling over while drunk. He knew Hanzo well enough to be sure that telling Reinhardt about last night would absolutely be the worst thing ever. Maybe some day he would tell Reinhardt the truth, but today was not that day. 

They baked turnover after muffin after chocolate slice, barely stopping until finally the day was over. Then, Lena had invited them to coffee. That was how he and Hanzo found themselves in a cuban-themed cafe, hot coffee cups nestled in their hands. Emily smiled at Jesse, her long red hair neatly tied into a braid.

“It’s so nice to meet you properly, Jesse.” She said. “Last time we saw each other must have been the time you returned Lena to me drunk off her ass!”

Lena rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t that drunk!” 

“Sweetheart, you told me you were a train conductor, then fell asleep leaning on the kitchen counter!” Emily retorted. Jesse snorted and Lena’s cheeks flushed red.

“Okay, I suppose I was that drunk…” She admitted. Emily’s attention turned to Hanzo.

“And you two are dating! How cute!” She beamed. Hanzo nodded with what Jesse would almost call a smile. From their interactions, Jesse had gathered that Hanzo already knew Emily quite well - certainly well enough to lower his stern visage.

“We have been dating for several months now.” He replied. Jesse took a sip of his quickly cooling coffee, blinked at the strong flavour, and smiled at Hanzo.

“I figure he only keeps me around to steal all my clothes. That’s jumper’s mine!” He said. Lena giggled. 

“I can’t blame you, love! At this point our cupboard is just one big mishmash of clothes, isn’t it, duck?” She leant over to give Emily a kiss on the cheek. Lena took a long swig of her coffee. Afterwards, her nose scrunched up a little. She looked deep in thought for a moment.

“Everything alright?” Jesse asked.

“Yeah… I just had something I wanted to talk about, but it’s gone right out of my head!” She said.

“The wedding.” Emily prompted. Lena’s whole face lit up like a neon sign.

“Right, yeah! Thanks, love. The wedding’s really close now - only a month! I wanted to thank you two for getting the flowers ready. We got the bill today - good job for not getting anything too expensive! - and the flowers are perfect. Everything’s actually moving really smoothly.” She added with a nervous chuckle. “I was expecting a lot more unlucky things to happen.”

“Nothing went wrong because I was watching over everything like a hawk.” Emily butted in with a dry look.

“And I love you for it.” Lena replied with a cheeky smile. “But yeah, thanks for the help with the flowers. We double-checked the date, and it’s nowhere near the full moon, so don’t worry about that, Jesse. As for you, Hanzo - well, we can’t promise nothing will happen, but we’re pretty sure you’ll be fine.” Lena and Emily shared a sly glance. Hanzo looked confused.

“How can you be so sure?” He asked. Lena fought back a giggle.

“Almost all of my friends are gay, love!” She replied with a laugh. “Not much hope of some poor girl falling hopelessly in love with you if she plays for the other team.”

Hanzo let out a relieved breath. “That is certainly a weight off my chest.” He said. 

“I thought it would be. God, I’m so excited!” Lena chirped. She grabbed Emily’s hand and excitedly showed Jesse and Hanzo the engagement ring on her finger.

“Lena! You’re embarrassing me!” Emily cried. Lena blushed and allowed her to retract her freckled hand.

“Sorry, love.” She giggled. Jesse glanced at Hanzo. A cup of tea was cradled in his hands, and although his face was marred by a bruise and dark under eye - he was unmistakably happy. There was another emotion on his face, however. Was he… wistful? Jesse felt that longing again. Was it too early for him to fantasize about a golden ring on Hanzo’s finger, connecting them forever as soulmates? He forced the thought from his mind. This was Lena and Emily’s time, not his. 

His pining dreams would have to wait until after their wedding, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My boys..... ;u;
> 
> Okay, on a more real note - self harm is a very serious thing! If you self harm, or are feeling tempted to self harm, please talk to somebody you trust instead! (and self harm isn't just cutting - it's anything that hurts you.) As somebody who personally struggles with this kind of stuff - you aren't alone! There's always a better alternative. You matter, and I love you <3 <3 <3 <3
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! It got pretty wild but i p r o m i s e to give my sweet boys some happiness soon, don't worry! :3c


	31. When Night Falls

Jesse wasn’t hungry. Although his favourite meal - rattlesnake bites next to a hefty pile of mashed potatoes - was in front of him, he couldn’t bring himself to eat much. He knew why. He was too concerned for Hanzo. They hadn’t talked much about Hanzo’s self-inflicted injuries, and it was starting to drive Jesse crazy. He watched as Hanzo suspiciously picked up a rattlesnake bite.

“This looks dangerously American.” He muttered. He inspected the battered ball closely, then took a tentative bite. Jesse fought to hold in his laughter as Hanzo’s expression changed from suspicion to pain.

“It’s spicy!” Hanzo coughed, grabbing his glass and gulping down water. A snort escaped from Jesse’s mouth.

“Aw, come on, darlin’. I made them milder just for you.” He said with a chuckle. Hanzo scowled, but took another bite from the cheesy ball. Clearly he thought the flavour was worth it despite the pain. Jesse waited for Hanzo to fully consume the rattlesnake bite before speaking again.

“Han.” He began. “About this morning. And your arm.”

Hanzo visibly tensed. “Can this not wait until after dinner?”

“Put it off too long and we just won’t talk about it.” Jesse said. “I just - I want to talk about this. I want to know what’s been goin’ on. You don’t have to keep this a secret.”

Hanzo didn’t catch his eye. He did, however, sigh and droop his shoulders. 

“Alright.” He said quietly. “What do you want to know?”

Jesse paused. “How long has this been going on?”

“Ah… This hasn’t happened before. Not… Not recently.”

“Recently?”

“Not since we started dating.” Hanzo clarified. Jesse’s heart ached. If only he’d met Hanzo earlier, if only he’d been able to prevent more of his pain. He shook the thought from his mind, reaching over the table to grasp Hanzo’s hand.

“Did it happen a lot back then?”

“Yes.” Hanzo’s voice was quiet. Another spike through Jesse’s heart. 

“Because you hated being an incubus?”

“Because of everything. Genji - despite being a terrible brother to him, he still loved me. He cared for me. After he died I was alone. I was at the cafe Gibraltar for about six months before I met you. It sometimes felt like hell.”

“Well, you ain’t ever going to be alone again. I promise.” Jesse said. Hanzo smiled slightly.

“You are the kindest man I have ever met.” He murmured. For a moment, they were still, drinking in each other’s presence, their love unspoken. It didn’t need to be spoken. It filled Jesse’s heart, and surely filled Hanzo’s, with feeling so strong it almost hurt. After that tender moment, Jesse retracted his hand and leant back over to his side of the table.

“Better eat up before our mashed potato cools.” He said. 

From then on dinner passed quietly. Hanzo ate the rest of his meal with minimal coughing - although a particularly nasty bit of jalapeño had him red in the face - and soon they found themselves cuddling in front of the tv as Jesse’s old DVD player whined in an effort to start.

“You’re going to like this movie.” Jesse said, kissing Hanzo’s neck. “Heathers was my favourite movie as a kid. Though - maybe that was because I didn’t get to watch very many... I stole it on VHS from Ana’s neighbour, and I watched it so many times it stopped working!” He said with a laugh. 

“What is so good about it?” Hanzo asked, his tattooed arm resting on Jesse’s shoulders. Jesse blushed a little.

“Well, I know he’s like, crazy, but when I was a kid I had a big crush on one of the main characters, J.D.” He confessed. “There was somethin’ about his smile. But he doesn’t have shit on you.” He said. Hanzo smiled and leant over to kiss Jesse. The kiss lingered until Jesse found himself pushed onto his back. He chuckled, letting his arms wander a little lower down Hanzo’s muscular back.

“I love you, darlin’.” He murmured, each word slipping out in between Hanzo’s amorous kisses. All his worries seemed to evaporate when Hanzo’s hands were exploring his body, and his lips were pressed against his. Jesse tenderly pulled back from the kiss after a moment.

“Sweetheart, we should really hurry up and watch the movie… Can’t stay up too late with the full moon tomorrow an’ all…” He said weakly. All while he said this, Hanzo peppered kisses down his neck. 

“Surely it can wait just a moment.” He replied, a sultry look on his face. Jesse could almost taste his resolve slipping away. How did Hanzo manage to turn him to putty with a single look? He sighed, smiled, leant into another kiss. Their kissing quickly became more heated, and Hanzo pressed himself against Jesse a little more firmly. Jesse glanced downward and blushed. This made Hanzo glance down too, and he gave Jesse another alluring look.

“I can see you’re enjoying this, cowboy.” He commented. Jesse chuckled.

“You’re just too damn handsome. It’d turn anyone on.” He replied. Hanzo huffed in response - and god, was it sexy. Jesse found himself not-so-subtly grinding against Hanzo. Seemed like the movie would have to wait.

* * *

“The atmosphere and mise en scene felt very meticulously crafted. It was clearly a very cynical view of high school, but it always felt real.” Hanzo said. Jesse couldn’t help his grin.

“Yeah, Hanzo loved last night.” He told Lena. Hanzo shot him a deathly look and Jesse had to pretend to cough to cover up his laugh. Lena smiled obliviously.

“I’ll put on my to-watch list!” She replied. Her black apron was dusted in crumbs and coffee stains, rumpling in her lap as she slouched on the staff room couch. It was just the three of them, munching on biscuits and pastries that Lena had nabbed from customers that didn’t finish their meal. Jesse bit down into a half-eaten croissant. Even though it was cold and half of it had already been eaten, it was still satisfyingly crunchy. Hanzo turned his attention to Lena.

“I think Jesse was too tired to fully enjoy last night. He looked like he was falling asleep halfway through.” He said. Jesse nearly choked on his croissant. He sent Hanzo a foul look. Lena seemed to sense there was something afoot, and leant back in her chair. 

“Right…” She said suspiciously. She stuffed another biscuit into her mouth, then stood up. A few crumbs fell off her apron. 

“Well, I’m off. I told Emily that I’d grab some stuff after work, so I can’t stick around too long.” She said. “Good luck tonight, you two.”

Oh, of course. The full moon. Jesse cursed himself for forgetting about it. At least they still had time.

“Thanks, Lena.” He said - but she was already gone. Hanzo brushed a stray crumb off his lap. 

“Thanks for nearly makin’ a fool of me, Han.” Jesse huffed. Hanzo’s mouth curled into a smirk.

“You had it coming.” He replied. Jesse shrugged. With a grunt he pushed himself to his feet.

“Best get me all safe for tonight, huh.” He said, extending a hand out to Hanzo. Hanzo took it firmly and stood up, not letting go of Jesse’s hand. The two ambled out of the staff room, fingers still interlocked, and walked to the cafe’s basement. Jesse fished a set of keys from his pocket and unlocked the strong door.

“Gentlemen first.” He swung the door open and motioned Hanzo inside. Hanzo raised an eye but walked inside the dark room. Jesse followed him, letting the door stay open behind him. Hanzo could grab the keys when he left. His eyes roamed around the room. It looked a little scarred from his previous transformations - there were a few scratch marks on the concrete walls, several blood stains on the floor - but the biggest difference was, of course, the mess of chains in the middle of the back wall. Jesse couldn’t help but shiver at the thought of the cold, heavy metal. He didn’t mind it too much, but sometimes it felt positively like an icy snake coiling around him.

“Ain’t got too much time. Hold on, I’ll give you my phone.” Jesse said. One of the small blessings of his transformation was that his wolven self was roughly the same size as his normal self - ergo, no hulk-ripped clothes afterwards. Only his phone was in real danger. Although, now that he thought about it - were those wolves attacking Hanzo all those months ago technically naked?

He shook his head, dispelling the distracting thoughts. He pulled out his phone and tossed it to Hanzo, who caught it in a fluid motion before putting it safely in his back pocket.

“And, ‘course, I’ll need a kiss before you lock me up.” Jesse said. Hanzo rolled his eyes and put his arm around Jesse’s neck, pulling him into a kiss. Although it was certainly a damn fine kiss, Jesse couldn’t help but be distracted by a weird creaking noise. His mind processed for a moment, then his eyes flew open.

“The door!” 

_Slam!_

Oh, fuck. Jesse pulled away from Hanzo and ran to the now-shut door. He gave the doorknob an experimental tug. It didn’t move.

“Shit.” He muttered. “It’s locked.”

“So give me the key.” Hanzo replied, frowning. Jesse could feel a cold sweat on his forehead.

“I, uh…” He rubbed his chin. “I might’a left it in the door lock.”

Hanzo’s face paled. He glanced from the door, to Jesse, then back again. For a moment he stood silently, processing the situation. Then he stormed towards Jesse and gripped his upper arms.

“That keychain had the padlock keys on it.” Hanzo’s voice wobbled. Jesse could feel the colour draining from his own face. 

“Oh.” He couldn’t really say anything more. He was panicking too much. Leaving Jesse to stand petrified, Hanzo pulled out his phone and started tapping furiously. He raised it to his ear, his face steely. Jesse’s skin crawled. This was his fault. Unequivocally, undeniably. Was he going to hurt Hanzo? Was he going to… It made him want to retch even thinking about it.

“Lena. Where are you? Wh - That far away already? You need to come back… Yes. It is an emergency. I accidentally got locked in the basement with Jesse.” Hanzo said into his phone. He was keeping incredibly calm given the situation. Jesse shifted uncomfortably.

“Han, there ain’t enough time…” He warned. “When - when I change, if that door opens I might get out. What if - Han, what if I hurt someone? What if I hurt you?” 

“Lena will get back in time.” Hanzo snapped. Jesse could see his chest rising and falling faster and faster. Hanzo’s hand rose to run through his hair - but he could see his hand was shaking. Jesse knew the look on Hanzo’s face.

“Hanzo, are you alright?” Jesse took a tentative step towards him. “Han, look at me. I need you to try an’ slow your breathing.”

Hanzo’s eyes shakily made their way to Jesse’s face. His breathing was still shallow. Goddamn it. This was the worst goddamn time for this to happen, just after he and Hanzo had a fight. Jesse’s mind was swirling. Was he going to hurt Hanzo? Was everything really his fault? When was he going to turn?

The last question was answered shortly after.

Jesse reached out to hug Hanzo, but halfway through reaching out to him he froze. A familiar feeling was prickling over his skin. Hanzo flinched back, clearly aware of what was happening. Jesse stumbled backwards. 

“Hanzo - no-” He coughed, his voice replaced by a scratchy growl. This transformation hurt a lot more than the ones before it. That was probably because Jesse was fighting it with every inch of his being. He balled his hands into fists, feeling his slowly growing claws puncture the skin of his right palm. Although his vision was blurring, he could see Hanzo back away from him, chest rising and falling far too rapidly. 

_“Panic will try to control you. If you can’t beat it down, can’t control it - what use are you?”_

Ana’s voice - flickering in and out of his consciousness - he fought to hear it through the maddening haze. Hanzo was pressed against the wall in front of him, eyes wide. 

_“I’m telling you this for your own good, Jesse. When you’re holding a gun nothing matters but instinct. You’ve got to know when to kill - but more importantly, when not to. Own your fear. Think rationally.”_

It was like a lightning storm in his mind. He brought a clawed hand to his forehead and growled as a painful surge of anger seared through him. He had to control it. For Hanzo. 

He couldn’t see any more. A howl escaped his lips, carrying all his pent up desperation in one furious note. He couldn’t think, couldn’t feel. His head snapped up. His vision cleared to reveal a form, steeped in red, in front of him.

“Jesse… J-Jesse, it’s me.” The human was speaking. Jesse snarled and stepped towards it.

“Please. Please, Jesse. It’s me, it’s Hanzo.” It was approaching him. Its scent flooded his nostrils. Warm, delicious, infuriating. But - somehow, familiar. That thought made him pause.

“Try and remember. Please, god, I love you, I love you so much. You can - you can control it. I know you can.” The fear was coming off the human in waves. They were scared, terrified even. Rightfully so. Again, however, Jesse felt that uncomfortable familiarity. He struggled against himself, hungry to pounce on him. 

“Hanzo! Hanzo, are you in there?” Another voice suddenly yelled out. Jesse growled. He reached out a paw to the human in front of him, who backed away.

“Lena, don’t open the door. Don’t until I tell you.” It murmured. 

_Sweetheart_

Jesse’s ears flattened against his skull. 

_Darling_

He took a step back, eyes wide. Something was invading his mind, something was filling him with burning pain. What was this awful feeling?

_Sugar_

He stumbled backwards and nearly fell over. A pained whimper escaped from him. 

“Now!” The human yelled. The sound of footsteps, something slamming open then shut. The overwhelming scent of the human was gone, but the terrible feeling still remained. It felt like he was being torn apart, his mind reeling. Was it… Was it love?

_My love_

He couldn’t take it anymore. His legs buckled. The concrete floor flew up to meet him.

* * *

Consciousness hit him like a punch to the gut. Jesse jerked awake, gasping in cold air as his eyes flew open. Sprawling grey floor filled his vision, flecked with the occasional mark of red. His mind hurt trying to understand the signals from his eyes - hell, all of him hurt. His throat was painfully dry, his muscles felt pulled too taut, his eyes burned. He groaned. What happened?

“Jesse?” A muffled voice caught his attention. He tried to turn his head towards the source but it hurt too much, so he just let out a grunt. Oh god, now he remembered. Memories of last night came flooding back, so visceral and frightening that he immediately tried to jump to his feet. He only got as far as pushing his chest off the ground, but his arms buckled underneath him.

“Hanzo - Hanzo, god, no -” There was blood in his mouth. Was it his? Or was it… Oh, god.

 _Slam!_ The basement’s door was wrenched open. 

“Jesse!” He forced his head to turn, and tears came to his eyes.

“Hanzo… Oh, thank god.” He looked up at Hanzo’s teary face. Hanzo gently cradled Jesse’s head, holding him on his lap.

“It’s okay. It’s all okay. Jesse, you did it. God, you looked like you were in so much pain - I’m so sorry that you have to go through that every single month -” Hanzo’s voice broke off into sobs. Jesse smiled weakly up at him.

“It’s okay, sugar. It ain’t so bad.” He said. Hanzo smiled through his tears, and Jesse found himself crying too. 

“I thought I was going to hurt you, Han.” He said, trying not to blubber. 

“Shh, shh, you didn’t. You were so strong.” Hanzo murmured. He lowered his head until it was resting on Jesse’s forehead.

“God, I love you, Jesse.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. I’m so goddamn sorry for getting us into that pickle…”

“I forgive you, Jesse. A thousand times over. You didn’t mean to. It was an accident.”

“Sure you don’t hate me? I wouldn’t really blame you.” Jesse mumbled. Hanzo’s head shook slightly.

“I could never hate you, Jesse McCree. I love you far too much for that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hooooo boy im sorry about all the angst recently ;w; I promise you guys happiness and what do I give you - a little bit, then right back into the sadness!
> 
> but don't worry!!! More happiness is just around the corner in the next chapter, I super duper promise!!!! These boys deserve it


	32. The Wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning!!! The very start of this chapter - the italicised section - contains blood and references to self harm. If this isn't for you, I'd recommend skipping to the non-italicised text.

_His heart pounded. Jesse could hear the blood rushing in his veins, filling him with manic adrenaline that made him want to run, yell, attack whatever touched him next. But despite the urge to move, he couldn’t; he was stuck crouched on the ground, head bowed. It was infuriating._

_“Jesse…” He heard a voice whisper to him. He forced himself to raise his head. Darkness spread out on every side of him. It wasn’t like it was hiding his surroundings. Rather, it was like there was nothing for it to hide._

_“Jesse.” The voice whispered again. It was closer. Jesse turned his head, then froze. Hanzo sat in front of him. He looked meditative, with his long hair cascading like a veil over his face and his hands in his lap. His chest was bare and completely still. He wanted to reach out to him, to caress him - but he couldn’t. His limbs were still frozen._

_“You hurt me…” Hanzo’s mouth didn’t move, but his voice penetrated Jesse’s mind. His blank eyes stared into Jesse’s and he raised his arms. Jesse could only watch as he finally realised there were jagged claw marks crosshatched on Hanzo’s chest, weeping scarlet blood. Hanzo’s arms were outstretched to Jesse, covered in crescent moons of red. This was his fault._

_This was all his fault._

Jesse woke slowly. He didn’t want to open his eyes - if he did, what if Hanzo was in front of him, washed in blood? He froze for a moment, trying to control his frantic breathing, before realising that Hanzo was moving beside him. 

“What’s wrong?” Hanzo’s tired voice mumbled. Jesse finally opened his eyes. Soft morning light washed over him, but it didn’t feel warm. Jesse rolled over to face Hanzo and let out a relieved breath when he saw his concerned face.

“Just a bad dream. I’m just glad that you’re - that you’re alright.” Jesse said. He fought back a sniffle. Hanzo reached out and Jesse gratefully accepted his hug, burying his head in Hanzo’s shoulder as the first tear escaped.

They held each other quietly for a moment, until Jesse had managed to rein in his tears. He shuffled back a little to give Hanzo some space, and smiled at him.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, sweetheart.” He said. Hanzo stroked Jesse’s cheek.

“I feel the same about you, Jesse. You mean everything to me.” He murmured. Jesse felt another wave of tears growing but he managed to fight it back. Instead he pulled Hanzo into another hug, desperate for the gesture to convey the full extent of his love. 

Eventually Hanzo extracted himself from the embrace.

“You are like an oven.” He murmured apologetically. Jesse smiled.

“Sorry, sweetheart. How about I go to our actual oven, an’ cook us up some eggs?” He suggested. Hanzo nodded. With a grunt, Jesse pulled himself out of bed, using his own momentum to propel himself to his feet. He stuck out his hand for Hanzo, who took it firmly and stood up too. They walked to the kitchen together, fingers interlaced. When they walked into the quiet kitchen, Hanzo paused. 

“Jesse…” He began. Jesse turned to him.

“Everything okay, darlin’?” He asked. Hanzo’s cheeks flushed.

“Yesterday, I… I booked an appointment.”

“An appointment for what?”

“For a mental health counselor.” Hanzo replied. Jesse paused for a moment - then he smiled.

“I’m proud of you, Han. That first step ain’t easy.”

“Thank you… It’s in four days, after work. It’s… It was scary. But I think it will help.” He said quietly. Jesse nodded.

“Don’t worry about it, darlin’. Even if it doesn’t help much, we’ll shop around. Find someone who works for you. But how about we think about that after the weddin’?” He suggested. He reached out for the kettle, and groaned.

“I forgot my damn arm again. Help me out, sweetpea?”

“Of course.”

* * *

The day passed quickly. The pressing thought of Lena and Emily’s wedding in the evening made it remarkably hard to focus on anything, so they spent the saturday watching westerns and snacking on far too many cheese quesadillas. After A Fistful of Dollars came to an end, Jesse glanced up at the clock.

“Gonna have to start getting ready soon.” He said. Hanzo’s response was an acknowledging grunt, his head resting on Jesse’s shoulder. Neither of them possessed enough motivation to get up right away, so they stayed there for a moment. Hanzo nuzzled Jesse gently.

“Get up so you can pull me up.” He mumbled, and Jesse snorted.

“Alright, lazybones!” He huffed - but obligingly got to his feet and helped Hanzo up. They had about half an hour before night fell, and Reinhardt came around to pick them up. Hanzo’s attention to detail and need to double check everything was… meticulous, to say the least, so Jesse judged they’d need that long to get ready. The two trundled to the bedroom and Hanzo pulled open their cupboard. Hanging in slightly crinkled plastic were two tuxedos, fresh from the rental down the road.

“Now, darlin’. Are you gonna take the slightly greyer one, or the slightly blacker one?” Jesse asked, holding up the identical tuxedos. Hanzo rolled his eyes and Jesse handed him one. 

“I hope you don’t mind the flowers I chose for the little chest pocket.” Hanzo said, quickly shunning his t-shirt.

“Why, what did you get?” Jesse asked, doing the same.

“It took some searching, but I got them from a rather expensive shop that you could order from online. I thought that you could wear cherry blossoms, and I could wear parry’s bellflowers.” Hanzo replied. Jesse paused, thinking about the flowers.

“Hold on, now - ain’t parry’s bellflower a New Mexico flower?”

Hanzo, halfway through buttoning his shirt, went slightly red.

“I thought it would be a romantic gesture. You would have flowers from Japan, and I from New Mexico.” He said, focusing diligently on straightening out his shirt. Jesse could feel himself blushing, too.

“It is, sugar. Damn, Han, you’re making me redder than a rose!” He laughed. 

They put on their tuxedos quickly, and after gathering a few essentials, they migrated to the lounge room to wait for Reinhardt. Jesse tried to focus on making his suit look nice, but kept finding himself distracted by Hanzo. He looked incredible in his suit, his strong, dignified features exemplified by the outfit. The star-shaped purple flowers peeking out of his chest pocket were perfect, too. Jesse leaned over and Hanzo raised an eyebrow.

“Darlin’... That outfit really _suits you._ ” He purred. Hanzo’s face went blank - then, having realised the pun, looked exasperated. He seemed close to hanging his head in his hands, but their conversation was interrupted by a loud knock on the door.

“Alright, let’s go, darlin’. Better start acting _suitable._ ”

‘Jesse, you little-!”

* * *

Lena and Emily’s wedding was a quiet affair. Reinhardt’s battered up BMW van pulled up to the out-of-the-way church just as most of the other guests were arriving. The night was cloudy but the street was awash in light from cars and the church itself, which was lit up like a christmas tree. Jesse took Hanzo’s hand in his robotic own and the two headed into the church. 

“Are you feeling alright?” Jesse asked quietly. Hanzo nodded, his stray lock of hair bobbing up and down slightly.

“Yes - Yes, I will be fine tonight. Don’t worry, Jesse.” He replied with a gentle smile.

Jesse recognised some of the other guests. Angela was there, waving at them from a nearby pew. Winston was there too, chatting with an old lady sitting beside him. Emily and Lena were nowhere to be seen - although it was easy to miss people in the crowd. Hanzo and Jesse quickly shuffled into a pew near Angela. Like Lena had said, almost all of the guests were women; it also seemed like only Emily’s side of the family were there (easily distinguishable by their mad red hair). 

Jesse didn’t have much time to dwell on this, however, because the procession started shortly after. Emily stood at the altar, her cascade of ginger hair covered by a beautiful veil. As Lena walked down the aisle, donned in a white dress so beautiful it seemed like she was radiating brilliant light, Jesse felt his heart swell. He’d never been to a wedding before, and the sudden rush of happiness he felt for Lena in this moment - well, it was intense, to say the least. Their vows brought him dangerously close to tears.

Lena joined Emily at the altar, and sent a nervous glance over the crowd. Jesse caught her eye and gave her the biggest smile he could. Her brown eyes crinkled into a smile, then turned to face Emily. As the two stood there, white dresses illuminated by the church’s warm yellow light, Jesse couldn’t help but yearn for the same unbelieving smiles on their faces. 

One day. One day, he would be there. But today was their day - and Jesse felt so damn proud of them.

As their vows came to a close, and Lena slipped a ring on Emily’s finger, Jesse felt a tear escape onto his cheek.

“Lena Oxton, you may kiss the bride.”

* * *

“Jesse! Jesse, oh my god, I’m married!” Lena yelled. She launched herself at Jesse, nearly knocking him over. He staggered backwards, laughing as Lena hugged him.

“Ain’t that something! Congratulations, Lena.” He said with a grin. Lena let go of him, stepping back to smooth her dress down. The wedding party was in full swing, and the charming venue that Lena and Emily had booked was full of happy guests mingling and chatting. 

“God, I was so nervous! I thought I was going to botch my vows, or drop the ring - god, it was so stressful, love! But I made it!” She cried. The two laughed again - relieved laughter. Jesse had never seen Lena with such a look of euphoria on her face.

“You did great up there.” Jesse agreed. Lena took a deep breath, smoothed down her hair, and then gave Jesse another hug.

“We decided against hyphenating at the last minute, love - she’s going to be Emily Oxton! Isn’t that cute? She’s so cute. When she was up there, surrounded by all the lights - she’s so beautiful in that dress, Jesse. I can barely believe it.” Lena breathed. Jesse smiled.

“You two are lucky to have each other.” He said. “Where is Emily, by the way?”

Lena looked like she’d got an electric shock. She jumped a little, and looked around.

“The slow dances are happening soon! I’ve got to find her! Thanks, love!” And with that she was gone. Jesse raised his eyebrows at the sudden disappearance. He doubted he’d ever get used to that. 

Left to his own devices, alone in the room, he slowly began to gravitate towards the drinks table. Hanzo had left his side to talk to Angela, and Jesse felt remarkably lonesome now that he wasn’t by his side. It was a bit of a battle to weave through the crowd of chatting people, but he finally found himself next to the white-clothed refreshment table. Unfortunately it looked like all the glasses were gone, so Jesse just looked forlornly at an unopened bottle of champagne. So close, yet so far.

“Hello there.” A familiar voice made Jesse smile. He looked up to see Hanzo beside him.

“Well howdy, stranger. You come here often?” Jesse purred. Hanzo rolled his eyes, sending that frustratingly handsome lock of hair fluttering back and forth. He smiled at Jesse, then glanced at the crowd of people. A new, slower song had come on, and couples were starting to sway back and forth.

“Not too often. Would you care to dance?”

“Can’t say no to a man as handsome as you.” Jesse replied with a grin. He walked with Hanzo further towards the centre of the room, and Jesse rested his hand on Hanzo’s shoulder. The song was slow, and heart-meltingly romantic. The two began to sway back and forth, the rest of the room falling away around them. In that moment, it was just them. Just them, the slow music, and the beating of their hearts. Their heads leant forward until they were almost touching, breath mingling.

“I love you.” Hanzo murmured. 

“I love you too, darlin’. I don’t think words can even tell you how much I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE IS THE GROSS MUSHY FLUFF I PROMISED YOU GUYS!!!!
> 
> Sorry if I totally got wrong how weddings work? I'm smol and have never been to a wedding so google was my only guide to writing this realistically ;ouo
> 
> Also - if you don't know what a parry's bellflower looks like, here is a website with pictures and information!  
> http://www.americansouthwest.net/plants/wildflowers/campanula-parryi.html
> 
> But aaaaaaa im so happy with the way this story is turning out! We're in end-game territory now; I think there will only be one more chapter after this one, just to tie things up in a (hopefully) satisfying way. 
> 
> Again, thank you all so much for reading and supporting this fanfic - your kudos and kind comments are what motivate me to keep writing! I know I don't answer all of them, but I do read and appreciate every single one of them dearly <3 <3 <3


	33. Lovers' hearts beat as one

The day started like any other. Jesse woke slowly from a dreamless sleep, eyes opening to see a mess of Hanzo’s hair in front of him. He blinked a few times, brain still turning on, then leant forward and snuffled into the back of Hanzo’s head.

“Mmm.. Good morning.” Hanzo said blearily. Jesse smiled. Although Hanzo didn’t know it yet, today was going to be one of the best days of his life. He reached his arm over Hanzo’s shoulder and hugged him tightly. The familiar smell of his boyfriend was so comforting - warm and a little like the kooky gem shop down the road that was always burning incense. Jesse wondered what he smelled like to Hanzo. Hopefully not sweat.

“I hope you didn’t have anything planned today after work.” Jesse said.

“And why is that?” Hanzo asked, rolling over so he faced Jesse. Their foreheads touched, breath combining in the warm space between them.

“I might’ve made a reservation at a highfalutin’ restaurant for tonight.” Jesse replied with a grin. Hanzo smiled, his eyes crinkling a little at the sides. 

“Hmm… I will have to check my schedule.” He replied. “I have an awful lot of things to do.”

Hanzo’s teasing made Jesse feel playful too, and he kissed Hanzo on the nose.

“Like?” He asked, nibbling at Hanzo’s lip. Hanzo tried to reply, but Jesse didn’t stop kissing him until Hanzo laughed and gently batted him away.

“Alright, alright, you saw through me, I have no plans. I would love to go to that restaurant with you.” Hanzo said. He pushed back into Jesse’s kiss, hands roaming down his back. Jesse softened at his every touch. His heart had been easily purloined by Hanzo, and now it wasn’t hard to see why. Hanzo’s very touch reduced Jesse from a quite hefty adult man to a puddle of affection, wanting nothing more than to always feel his hand in Hanzo’s.

“Well then, it’s a date.” Jesse replied. “An’ I’ve got another idea. How about we throw those croissants I bought yesterday in the oven?”

Hanzo chuckled. “I like the sound of that.”

They got out of bed together. Before they got dressed, Hanzo helped Jesse put on his prosthetic arm. Over time he had become deft at assisting Jesse in the - sometimes very frustrating - maneuver of putting on the arm. It still felt unnatural, but at least it no longer made his skin crawl just looking at it. Then, clad in their comfiest clothing, the two wandered to the kitchen. Jesse leant on the counter, a smile on his face as he watched Hanzo. Hanzo began preparing croissants, but after a moment, turned to look at Jesse.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“Just admiring the scenery.” Jesse replied with a cheeky grin. Hanzo rolled his eyes, and turned his attention to cutting open croissants Jesse contented himself with seeing Hanzo’s back muscles shift with each movement. Underneath his grey shirt, Hanzo’s back was strong and almost painfully well-sculpted. 

After a moment of silence, Hanzo glanced over his shoulder. 

“I do not believe I told you about how my appointment went.” He said. Jesse pushed himself up off the kitchen counter and stood up straight.

“No, you didn’t.” He said. “You’re ready to talk about it now?”

Hanzo didn’t respond immediately. His eyes wandered downwards, vision dancing anywhere except Jesse. Then he inhaled deeply and turned to face Jesse fully.

“It did not go as I expected.” He said. “It was… Stressful. And nerve wracking. I did not tell them everything and I feel torn about it - but, despite that, I left feeling relieved.”

“Did they have any clue about what’s goin’ on?” Jesse gently prompted.

“He mentioned anxiety and depression.” Hanzo replied, eyes still not meeting Jesse’s. “I am inclined to agree.”

Jesse stepped towards Hanzo and their eyes finally met. Like he was staring through a window, Jesse could see the worry and conflict in Hanzo’s eyes. His hands reached out to stroke Hanzo’s hair, then cradle his face.

“You’re damn strong for talkin’ about it, sugar.” He said firmly. “I know how hard it is. All of it.” 

Hanzo’s eyes fell again, his thumb tracing circles on Jesse’s forearm. A small smile crept onto his face.

“I say it so many times, but I still cannot fathom your kindness.” He murmured. “Thank you for all of this.”

“Don’t think nothin’ of it, sweetheart.” Jesse replied, leaning in to kiss Hanzo on the forehead. They stood there for a while, Jesse’s hands cupping Hanzo’s face, Hanzo resting his hands on Jesse’s forearms. Then Hanzo slowly leant forwards and they kissed - a slow, tender embrace that made Jesse’s heart soar.

* * *

It was incredibly comforting, stepping into the cafe Gibraltar. At this point it was basically Jesse’s second home, with his job, friends, even his lover, close by. He was reminded of this by the happy feeling that flooded him when he pushed open the front door, shepherding Hanzo in ahead of him. Lena’s head popped into view and she waved.

“Morning, loves!” She called. “You came in time to help Reinhardt with the morning deliveries.”

Jesse nodded. He and Hanzo walked to the staff room staircase hand in hand.

“Fareeha here?” He asked. Lena grinned.

“You know it. She’s a bit mad, your sister. Helping with the deliveries each week, and without pay? An absolute madman.” She said with a chuckle. Jesse shrugged.

“She’s always been like that. Kindness out the ears, like her mother.” He replied. He gave a final wave and followed Hanzo down the staircase. It was chilly in the corridor, and Jesse grimaced.

“Han, I love you, but your hand is a goddamn ice box.” He huffed. Hanzo glanced at him silently - then his mouth curled into a sly grin.

“AH!” Jesse yelped in pain as Hanzo’s other hand smooshed into his cheek, freezing on his skin.

“This is abuse!” He cried, desperately trying to evade Hanzo’s cold hands. The tussle ended with Jesse sticking out his tongue threateningly, trying to lick Hanzo’s hand every time it approached his face. They both broke into laughter, hands slipping back together after a moment’s pause.

When they arrived at the back of the cafe, Fareeha and Reinhardt were already halfway through unloading boxes from a large truck. Fareeha smiled and waved at them, a sack of flour over her shoulder.

“Hi, big bro! What’s up, little man?” She said. Hanzo rolled his eyes.

“Good morning, Fareeha.” He replied. Jesse and Hanzo both took a sack of coffee beans from the truck and started to help unload. 

“Hey, Jesse.” Fareeha looked at Jesse smugly. Jesse returned the stare suspiciously.

“What?”

“Guess who asked Angela out?”

“What?” Jesse nearly dropped the sack he was carrying. He gaped at Fareeha, her cheshire grin only widening. 

“And she said?”

“She said yes! Of course she said yes! Would I be smiling if she said no?” Fareeha shot back. Jesse set his sack down far too roughly, and gave Fareeha a high five. 

“I am proud of you, Fareeha!” Reinhardt yelled. “It takes courage for romance to blossom!”

“Thanks!” Fareeha yelled back. Jesse winced, but Reinhardt laughed.

“You youngsters make me smile. Always making the most of life.” He said with a proud nod. 

“We make do. But,” Hanzo glanced at the truck, “I think we may have to hurry if we want to unload this before the cafe’s doors open.”

* * *

_Wasting away again in Margaritaville_   
_Searching for my lost shaker of salt_   
_Some people claim that there's a woman to blame_   
_But I know it's nobody's fault_

Jesse was damn near in heaven. Sure, Reinhardt’s music was still far too loud - but for once in his life, it wasn’t a hasselhoff song. Jimmy Buffet’s soothing marimba tunes were a welcome respite, and made cleaning the kitchen’s many benches a tolerable job.

Yes, and some people claim that there's a woman to blame, And I know it's my own damn fault

The song came to a relaxing end, and Jesse finished wiping up the room. He tucked the kitchen cloth back into its drawer, and turned to Reinhardt. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Rein.” He said. “Got any plans for tonight?”

Reinhardt chuckled. “It’s movie night! My wife loves James Bond, so we’re going through all the old ones. Not my mug of beer, but it’ll be my turn to choose the movie next week, so I’ll live.”

“Huh. I’ve known you all this time, and I never knew you were married.” Jesse said, eyebrows raised. “You don’t wear a ring.”

“Unfortunately, it doesn’t fit any more. We married very young, and I am - well, I’m not small.” Reinhardt replied. “It sits by my bed most of the time nowadays.”

Jesse nodded, “Well, belated congratulations. Your wife’s lucky to have you.”

“Thank you. Are you…” Reinhardt paused. “Are you thinking about marriage?”

A hot flush crept up Jesse’s neck. “I - um - well, it’s - yes.” He blurted out. Reinhardt must have noticed the rosy blush on his cheeks, because his eyes crinkled at the sides. His eyes were faded blue, but still held a glimmer of humour.

“I see. Off you go, Jesse. Enjoy your evening. I’ll finish cleaning up for today.” He motioned Jesse out of the kitchen.

“Ah - alright. Thanks, Rein. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Jesse replied with a smile. He trotted out of the kitchen, and into the archives. He walked in without hesitation, steadily making his way towards Hanzo’s desk. Hanzo’s form was easy to pick out even in darkness - Jesse knew the spot by heart, despite the many books and shelves in his way that were frequently rearranged. 

“Afternoon, darlin’.” He crooned. Hanzo turned and smiled at him.

“Good afternoon, sweetheart.” He replied. Jesse’s already pink cheeks flushed even more at the rare pet name. 

“Fancy helpin’ me out of my apron?” He asked. With a nod, Hanzo rose from his chair and untied Jesse’s apron with agile fingers.

“Thanks, sweetpea.” Jesse gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I know the reservation’s for this evening, but how about we do something special this afternoon too?”

“Such as?”

“Well… Do you want to go for a walk in the park?”

“I would love to.” Hanzo replied. Jesse gave him another kiss - on the forehead this time - and slipped out of his apron. His hand slipped into Hanzo’s -

“Jesus! Your hand is so goddamn cold!” 

“Yet you still hold it.”

\- and the two walked out of the Gibraltar. The sun was out for once, shining down from the bright blue sky. It was comfortably warm on their backs as they walked to the park, down winding roads and past quiet houses. Their journey took them down a gentle slope, where city melted into suburbia and the horizon was short and roofed with terracotta.

The park itself was small and empty - mostly just trees and grass, centred around a petite lake where ducks lazily floated. The water was as still as if spell-bound, barely rippling. A small concrete path wound throughout the park, which Jesse and Hanzo followed. 

The path led them to the side of the pond, where a stolid park bench sat. The two sat down, still hand in hand. 

Jesse glanced out across the still water. “Sure is beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you.” Hanzo replied. Jesse looked over to see Hanzo staring earnestly at him. The sun was just beginning to dip under the horizon, and Hanzo’s face was lit with earthen orange hues, reflecting off his dark eyes like there was a fire in them.

“You flatter me, sweetheart.” Jesse replied. Hanzo gripped his hand tighter.

“I’m serious, Jesse. You are the most handsome man I have ever seen.” He said. “Every day you come to me after work, and your smile makes me so happy. Everything about you makes me happy. I feel - I feel so loved around you. It used to be such a foreign feeling, but now I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

Jesse couldn’t muster up the strength to speak. Hanzo - right now, in this instant, illuminated in fading orange and overwhelmed with love - was breathtaking. Jesse’s heart ached. It hurt, and it yearned, but in the best possible way. Damn - he’d had everything planned, but this - 

This was it.

“Ah, fuck it.” Jesse muttered. Hanzo faltered, hand slipping out from Jesse’s grasp.

“What?” Hanzo stared at him. Jesse stood up, his hand fumbling in his pocket.

“One second - shit - I was gonna do this at dinner, but -” His sentences were jumbled, broken by his anxiety.

“Jesse, what are you doing?” Hanzo’s voice was tinged with suspicion. Jesse swore again under his breath. His fingers finally curled around their target.

“Get up, Han.”

“We’re not leaving, surely-”

“No, no. I just, um.” Jesse could feel his cheeks heating up. Hanzo stood in front of him, his face a mixture of confusion and concern. Jesse inhaled deeply.

“We’ve been dating for a while now. A long while. An’ I know our relationship hasn’t really been conventional, but - I think that just brought us together even more. I can’t count the number of times you’ve saved my life in some way or another. Even on our first meeting, I saved you an’ then you saved me.

I was, um, I was going to talk about all my favourite times with you, Han, but there’s too damn many. Every minute with you is my favourite moment. I love how considerate you are, and how you’re always there to help me when I’m having trouble with my arm. I love holding your hand, and listening to you talk - even in a million years I wouldn’t get tired of you.

Damn, I’ve been blabbering for a long time, haven’t I? I guess what I’m trying to say is…” Jesse gently knelt down, pulling the box from his pocket.

“Will you marry me?”

* * *

It’s sometimes said that lovers’ hearts beat as one. In that instant, Jesse knew that to be true. Hanzo’s eyes were locked with his, obsidian touched with orange from the gentle sunset. The silence was overwhelming. The slightest murmur could make the quiet shatter like glass.

“Yes.”

“Yes?” Jesse blinked. Hanzo’s eyes were teary, but he was smiling so widely it made Jesse’s heart hurt.

“A thousand times yes. Jesse, there’s nobody I’d rather spend my life with than you!”

“God, I love you, Han!” Jesse pulled Hanzo into a kiss, tearing rolling down both their cheeks. He could barely believe what was happening. He was going to marry Hanzo. His lover. The stars to his moon. The cherry blossom to his bellflower.

The dusk to his dawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM NOT CRYING YOU ARE ;O;
> 
> AAAAAAAAAAAA It's finally over! ;w; Thank you so much to everybody who has read this fic - it's been a long and fun ride for both of us! A special shoutout goes to everybody along the way who has left kind comments and kudos - you lovely people are the reason why fanfics get made <3
> 
> So it is with a heavy heart that I say goodbye to this beautiful story... Thank you so much for reading! <3 <3


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